


Stitches and Secrets

by I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies (Jas_mint)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors, The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword
Genre: 'i know you hate me but drive me to the hospital please', Action/Adventure, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bottom Link, Enemies to Lovers, First Time, Fluff, M/M, Past Abuse, Slice of Life, Smut, Top Ghirahim, Top Link, about 60 percent is new writing, bottom ghirahim, edited and reposted with additional writing, it's like a series of connected oneshots, really it's more like, to 'i love you too but revenge isnt necessary'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:00:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27496099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jas_mint/pseuds/I_write_fanfiction_not_tragedies
Summary: It's well past midnight when the knock comes at his door.At first, Ghirahim ignores it. If his roommate forgot his keys again, that's his fault. He needs to learn not to forget them.The pounding comes again, more urgent this time. Groaning, he slides off the couch, his phone abandoned to replay the same 30 seconds over and over again, and he wrenches open the door."What the hell do you want—Link?"
Relationships: Ghirahim/Link (Legend of Zelda), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	1. I've Got You

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This was originally a one shot in a prompt list that became a multishot as the month went on, and now I'm reworking and rewriting them to fit into more of a storyline. Some of these are brand new, and some of them are (heavily) edited versions of work I've posted before. If you want to avoid the old, mostly new content is marked with a * in the chapter title (more than or equal to the amount of my old writing added), and completely new one shots are marked with " !

It's well past midnight when the knock comes at his door.

At first, Ghirahim ignores it. If his roommate forgot his keys again, that's his fault. He needs to learn to not forget them.

The pounding comes again, more urgent this time. Groaning, he slides off the couch, his phone abandoned to replay the same 30 seconds over and over again, and he wrenches open the door.

"What the hell do you want—Link?"

The boy gives him a weak smile, lifting a hand in greeting. He winces, returns it to clutch his side, and slumps against the door frame.

"Sorry, I—I didn't know where else to go. Help? Please?"

* * *

It's only a moment later he's grabbing his keys and turning on the ignition. The car starts up, and as he's pulling out of the parking spot, Ghirahim mutters there's a first aid kit in the glovebox. The least he can do is stop bleeding all over his car. Link still refuses to tell him what's wrong, not saying a word since he first landed on his doorstep. 

Ghirahim isn't sure how he managed to get up the stairs to his apartment without bleeding out, much less make it to the complex that is a fair distance away from Link's dorm. He's always thought of him as a bit weak. Lazy, if nothing else. It's not like Ghirahim lives close to _anything_ , really, Link would have had to make a conscious decision to interrupt his lonely Friday night (goddess, how pathetic he's become). He's amazed he knew where he lived.

Honestly, he doesn't know why he's doing this. He could have easily called an ambulance and made this someone else's problem, turned Link away and hoped for the best. But he's here now, with his self proclaimed nemesis bleeding out in his passenger seat, and he isn't even complaining about the mess. Out loud.

Why is he even doing this? Why is he navigating a hospital parking garage, going to the trouble of stopping the car, getting out of said car, opening Link's door and guiding him through glass doors? They hate each other, in a way far more advanced and complicated than they can fathom. He could have dropped him off, he could have slammed the door in his face, he could have left him in the hands of the nurses and doctors and worried patients as he nearly carried him through the halls. Why? 

When they get to the emergency room, he's not allowed back with Link. There's a long night of no news ahead, drifting between the waiting room and the coffee shop, scrolling through social media and searching for anyone he should contact. He doesn't think of leaving, though.

Link's Instagram comes up with very little. An ex girlfriend he doesn't bother texting, a sister that's all the way back in Link's home town, a roommate that doesn't have any other mention on the internet. Finally, he remembers he has his best friend's number, a co-worker at the coffee shop he's been meaning to quit if he can just find a better job.

His finger hovers over the call button. Something in the back of his mind tells him this is a bad idea, that he should wait for Link. From what he remembers, they had been _close_ , Ghirahim thinks with a sneer. He was always waiting for outside after her shifts, linking arms and skipping away like a fucking fairy tale (perhaps his memory was too harsh, but they were sickeningly sweet to each other). Surely he would have gone to her first, and she would have known by now.

Unless... unless it's her fault.

He closes the phone app.

It looks like Link is his problem for the time being.

* * *

It's sometime around five a.m. when Link is released, all stitched up and high on painkillers. Ghirahim doesn't even bother getting information out of him now, given how he can barely concentrate on the road himself. 

He ignores the way Link clings to his arm, mumbling some form of thanks as they stumble back to his own apartment, Ghirahim scooping Link into his arms.

* * *

He's really fucking tired, but at least his roommate isn't back yet, so Ghirahim drops Link on his bed and gives him another pill to knock him out. He takes the couch out in the living room, but can't sleep. There's something very wrong with this situation.

One, what the hell did Link do to get that messed up? It looked like he had been stabbed. Shot, maybe. He didn't seem the type to get involved in fights.

Two, why did he care so much? Ghirahim had said many times he wouldn't care if Link lived or died. He hated his guts, the perfect little country boy that could do no wrong and never got in trouble in his life. Too innocent, too pure, just a dumb child who didn't know what he was doing. He made him irrationally angry, and he hated it.

He had thought Link felt the same. Immune to his banter, annoyed at his presence, generally cold to the idea of Ghirahim, he was the last person Link should have come to. He thinks of the young adult, out cold on his bed, and can only image the hell he'll raise when he comes to. Ghirahim turns over to block some of the dim light from the windows. 

Link is still on his mind. Perfect, pretty little Link. Who was _stabbed_. Who was _**attacked**_ , and _won't say anything_. What keeps him from speaking? Discomfort at being around Ghirahim? He shouldn't have shown up on his doorstep, then, pale from blood loss and scaring him half to death... 

Seeing him hurt... it had done something to him, something he didn't understand. He convinces himself it was just shock, just his body and mind going on autopilot at seeing the blood.

Ghirahim ignores the worry as he shuts his eyes, trying for some semblance of sleep.

* * *

His roommate still isn't back when he wakes up again a few hours later, which is a goddess-given blessing. Ghirahim stands outside the door to his room, hesitating to enter.

There's no sound from inside the room. Link may still be asleep, or he may be awake and confused. Ghirahim is probably the last person he wants to see.

Too bad. He's the only one around. If Link hated him that much, he wouldn't be here. Ghirahim sighs, convincing himself he's done the right thing for once.

Finally, he raps his knuckles against the wood, and clicks open the handle. Link is sitting up in his bed, blankets tossed aside. His clothes are still dirty, ripped and stained. He almost feels sorry for him, sitting there, staring out the window and worrying his lip. He barely notices when the other enters.

"Ghirahim." Link murmurs, voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. About... everything."

He almost snaps right then. He thinks he can show up in this state, demand help, and apologize like that? For **everything**? Does he even know what he's apologizing for, all the angst and turmoil this boy's put him through? Ghirahim's hit for a moment with the horrid thought that Link _doesn't_ reciprocate his feelings, that Link has never given him a second thought and he really was simply the closest option. Still, he keeps his calm, crosses his arms and stands back.

"What, pray tell, the fuck happened to you?"

Link looks down. His fingers grasp the edges of the sheets, and at least he looks ashamed of this. 

"Got in a fight."

"Really?" Ghirahim laughs, a mocking, incredulous bark. "Our precious little straight A's honor student got in a _fight_. What, were you defending the honor of some fair maiden, oh holy knight?"

"She hit me first."

Ghirahim freezes. He's taken back to the night before, the phone call he almost made. Was his instinct correct?

"Link... this isn't... is there something you need to talk about?"

Link tenses, flinching as he gingerly sets a hand on his side. "I don't want to bother you."

"We're past that point." Ghirahim scoffs, astounded he's chosen now to be courteous. "You owe me an explanation, if anything."

Shying away, Link turns his downcast eyes back to the window. He won't push, but Ghirahim will admit he's interested now. This isn't exactly how he imaged their 'morning after' (ha! he wishes) confrontation going.

"She was really sweet at first. Zelda told me not to, she said it was a bad idea to get involved with her, but she said she really liked me, and was the first person to say those things to me, but... I didn't feel the same way. She started threatening my friends, stalking me, I.... I let it go too far."

Ghirahim is confused. Link is rambling now, going on about this mystery girl and how she started to obsess over him, her jealousy cumulating with their fight. But something's not adding up, his description not sounding at all like the best friend he remembers.

"Stop. Who are you talking about?"

"You probably don't know her."

"Try me." Ghirahim demands, glaring down Link and hoping he can intimidate him into an answer. He's just curious. He doesn't care. 

"Cia Blackwood, she used go to school with me before she dropped out, I'm friends with her sister but—"

Ghirahim shuts his eyes in understanding. It makes sense now.

"Damn it, Link, you really fucked around with her?" He chuckles, though it's really not funny. He's been blackmailed by the woman in question, he knows she's not someone to deal with lightly. "And I thought you were would never be corrupted."

"We never 'fucked around', that was her problem." Link defends himself. He's blushing now, holding the blanket tight over his chest. "I'm not—I've never—"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it." Ghirahim rolls his eyes, waving off Link's excuses. "That still doesn't answer all my questions. No offense, but why did you come to me?"

If possible, Link's cheeks grow redder. The blanket is pulled up farther.

"Oh. I... you were closest."

So he's said. He's hiding something, he's sure of it. Stalking forward, Ghirahim looms over him, taking pride in the submissive way Link lowers his head.

"Really. 'Closest'. You didn't even think to call someone you trust?"

"I was thinking about you, I guess. Cia said... some stuff, and it hurt, but... she was right."

Ghirahim's tough demeanor falters for a moment, shocked at how easy it was to get a confession out of Link after a little prompting. Shaking his head, he tilts his body forward, trapping Link in a corner.

"Yeah? And what did she say?"

The boy squeaks, and immediately looks even more embarrassed at it. Smiling now, Ghirahim wonders if this is it.

See, he hates Link, yes. But, under their façade of 'holy chosen one' vs 'bad boy demon' personas, he can't help but think there's something else. Link intrigues him, and he hates how much he wants him. He doesn't fuck with straight boys.

But, the way Link bunches the blanket around his legs and hides his face in his hands, he starts to think maybe he's not one of them.

Breathing heavily, Link leans his head against the wall, wincing in pain. He'll need more meds soon, and Ghirahim will graciously get them once he confesses. But for now, he's content to watch Link squirm, just a little.

"She made some comments about... my inclinations, and where my affections lie. She... she kind of implied the reason I don't want to get with her is... you."

Ghirahim is practically over top of him now. Link has given up avoiding him, bravely staring ahead as he waits for a response. Ghirahim only smirks, lifting a finger under Link's chin, scoffing as the boy gulps.

"And that is the truth?"

A nod. That's all he needs. Closing the distance, Ghirahim presses their lips together, just for a moment. He feels Link relax, a sigh of relief, and he pulls back.

"Well then. This is... interesting news. One more thing, why haven't you told your... Zelda, that's your friend's name, yes?"

Link groans, sinking back into the pillows.

"I hate it when she's right."


	2. *We're Moving Fast*

No surprise, roommate doesn't come back for the rest of the day. Ghirahim may or may not have sent an, ahem, explicit text to keep him away, but he can neither confirm nor deny that.

He's able to get more details out of Link, and convinces him to write this down so he can actually remember it. He's not trying to push him, but the more he can confirm now, the better off he'll be down the line.

Luckily the hours pass uneventfully. Link drifts in and out of his med induced consciousness, and they're slowly but surely warming up to each other. It's strange, Ghirahim thinks, when Link accidentally falls asleep on his shoulder and he doesn't push him away. He wonders if he'd be this affectionate if he knew Link was awake.

With Link in his arms, it's like... all the animosity has gone away. He still relentlessly teases him, but the chase is over, there's no need to keep fighting. Ghirahim is content to let him sleep off his pain half the time, and to fake reluctance to care for him the rest. Secretly, and he will _never_ admit it, he enjoys taking care of Link.

It's not like he hasn't thought of it for a while. Somewhere between feigned disinterest and anger, Ghirahim has often imagined Link finally giving in, giving up the fight. The fight he had apparently completely made up, because Link doesn't seem cold to him at all. He wonders where the miscommunication happened, when he decided this golden boy hated him and he would have to reciprocate it, true feeling or not. 

It's in the past now. The sun is setting, and Link is still in his bed. He's informed other friends, called them, Ghirahim overhearing the yelling, and reassured he's okay. He gave in and called Zelda, promising to call her if something happened again.

Later, Ghirahim will help him navigate the whole 'my ex literally tried to kill me' scene, but for now, there's nothing to worry about. Link is awake, and fully conscious for once, curled up next to him.

"Finally got me into your bed, huh?" He jokes, sighing into the warmth. "Seems all your flirting worked.

"I didn't know you noticed."

"Hard to miss." Link giggles, and maybe the meds aren't completely out of his system. Maybe he's just like this all the time. Ghirahim finds himself wanting to figure out. "C'mon, don't tell me you didn't mean it now."

"I won't, then." Ghirahim smirks, ruffling his hair. "Kidding, though I will say I never expected you to _want_ to take me up on my offers."

"Honestly I wasn't sure I ever would." Link whispers, blushing. He pulls him in tighter, voice barely above a breath when he adds, "Thought that was the kind of thing that would remain in my imagination. Guess it doesn't have to anymore?"

"Hmm. Yeah."

As much as he wants to play along, Ghirahim is tired. Link should be too, he's due for another painkiller.

Casually, Link tries to continue the conversation.

"This shirt you put me in is huge. It can't be yours." He tugs on the faded tee, some band he never listened to and never will. It's a bit of a painful memory, but he's kept it as a 'fuck you' and won't give in now. Ghirahim slips a finger under the sleeve, messing with the threads coming loose.

"Got it for an ex boyfriend. Broke up before I gave it to him. It's a comfortable shirt, I wasn't about to get rid of it. It's mine now." Tucking a lock of hair behind Link's ear, he adds, "Besides, I don't want you bleeding all over my good clothes."

Link mumbles an apology, the same he's been giving all day. Something changes, though, when he tenses for a moment, an idea clear in his expression. Shifting so he's straddling Ghirahim's lap, he leans forward, nipping at the other's ear.

"I'm sorry," He whispers huskily, "Is there any way I can make it up to you?"

His tone is incredibly suggestive, but Ghirahim only smiles gently. Pressing a kiss to Link's neck, he counters, "It'll take you a lot more than some inexperienced blowjob to make up for this."

Of course, Link gets flustered, freezing in place and stuttering his next quip. Ghirahim worries he's overstepped, but before he can ask, Link is murmuring, "I can make that happen."

A little surprised, Ghirahim pulls away. "I'd rather you be healthy for your first time."

"Who says it's my first time?" Link snaps back playfully, but it's weak. Ghirahim gives him a look that says 'really', and he blushes. "Yeah. It would be my first time."

Shaking his head, Ghirahim pulls him in for another kiss. "There will be plenty of time for this later. You need rest, you can do whatever you want to make it up to me when you're healed."

Link agrees, sinking back down into the embrace. He's glad he didn't have to fight, glad, for once, a simple 'no' is all it took. Once again it's strange for him, not what he's used to. Link may be moving a little faster than Ghirahim had expected, but he's no stranger to rushing. Link could be different, he doesn't want to ruin this.

But if he's truly so eager, Ghirahim is not entirely opposed. 

"Though, if you are sure this is what you want, I know something less strenuous that may help you fall asleep. . ."

His hand trails down Link's chest, wary of the stiches hiding under layers of bandages, until it comes to rest at his hips. Link whines, bucking into his hand.

"Yes, please."

Slowly dragging it out, Ghirahim lets out a breathy laugh, dipping his hand beneath Link's shorts. He's gentle, careful, grip firm but motions teasing.

"Tell me what you like."

Link moans into his ear. An answer good as any, he guesses. He presses his hips into Ghirahim's, grinding against the other, working himself towards arousal. After kissing him deeply, Ghirahim can't help but smile as the soft noises leave Link's mouth.

It doesn't take long. Ghirahim's still tired, so he doesn't taunt Link for too long, freeing both him and himself and taking them into his palm. The only reward he needs is the way Link's face lights up when they touch, the way his cheeks pink from his nose to his ears, the tiny gasps as he wiggles in an attempt to help, but a release would be nice too.

"There! Oh, keep doing that, please!" Link begs, arms wrapping around Ghirahim's neck too fast. He stops for a moment to breathe, wincing as his side stretches and pains him. 

"Are you good?"

"Yes, I just—I forgot about the, the. . ." Link stumbles over his words, panting as Ghirahim stills. He's quivering under his hand, feeling each twitch against his own.

"The literal stab wound? You forgot?"

"Yes!" Link cries when his motions start again, burying his face into Ghirahim's collar. 

"I'll take that as a compliment, I guess." His teasing remark is met with a soft huff, nothing else he has the energy to say. 

He can tell Link is getting close, feeling things he's never felt before, muscles tensing and relaxing with each brush over the tip. Ghirahim brings his other hand to Link's mouth, tracing the seam, asking for entrance.

When Link cries out next, fingers press down on his tongue. He sucks, whining around them, eyes closed as he chases the hand around his lower half. No protest when they leave, only shivers as they trail down his spine, scratching but leaving no marks. The cotton is soft under his hand, but Ghirahim wishes it weren't there.

At the base of his spine, Ghirahim pauses, drawing circles down and around Link's tail bone. "Is this okay?" He prompts, sliding down farther, slipping under his shorts. "Can I?"

Link whimpers, his knees closing around Ghirahim's thighs. He nods, whispers yes, and trembles in his arms. 

Ghirahim smirks, giving him a chaste kiss to his plump lips before he presses in, Link's gasp music to his ears. It's what he needs, and soon enough he tenses, muscles fluttering and contracting as Ghirahim works him through it.

A few more strokes and Ghirahim finishes himself off. Link is resting against his chest, breathing heavily, eyes scrunched shut.

"Meet your expectations?"

"Oh, yes." Link laughs, sighing deeply. "Better, even."

They rest in silence for a while, before Ghirahim glances out the dark window.

"It's getting late."

Link shifts beneath him, making to sit up. Ghirahim doesn't let him.

"Could I bother you to drive me to my dorm?"

"You could stay here, you know."

"Can I?"

"Of course." He chuckles, petting Link's hair. He needs new bandages. And will need more pain medication soon. But for now, Ghirahim is content to let him rest, thanking all the goddesses he answered the door the night before.


	3. Breathe In, Breathe Out

It's only been three days, but having Link in his apartment feels natural. He did eventually have to leave, and unfortunately Ghirahim had to deal with his _annoying_ apartment-mate again, but every text messages he has to look forward to makes life a little more bearable.

Roommate's gone to do something, Ghirahim doesn't know what and doesn't care to learn. He texts Link as soon as the door clicks shut, an honestly dreadful combination of emoticons (wink, heart, eggplant, peach, heart eyes, sparkles, two more suggestive hand motions and another heart) and though he's only given an angry keysmash in return, Link is knocking on his door practically a second later.

They don't jump each other immediately, because as much as Ghirahim teases Link, he's still injured, and he's absolutely willing to take this as slow as Link needs. Injury or not.

So they just get on the other's nerves, make out a little bit, and enjoy each other's company.

It's really nice. Better than any relationship he's had before.

Link is in the kitchen, waiting on the microwave, when Ghirahim sneaks up behind him. He's bent over the counter, resting on his elbows as he watches the seconds count down, blissfully unaware of his boyfriend entering the kitchenet. It's simply too good of an opportunity to miss.

Link jumps as soon as Ghirahim's hand makes contact with his rear, his squeal almost as loud as the slap. Of course, his retaliation is to shove Ghirahim away half-heartedly, both of them laughing as they stumble back to Ghirahim's bedroom. The microwave is ignored.

"Link. Are you sure about this?" He asks, hand placed on the other's chest to keep him enough distance away so he can read his body language.

"Yeah. I mean, you did text me with the implication this may happen..." He bites his lip, hands bunched in Ghirahim's loose t-shirt.

"What about your stitches?"

"They're getting taken out in a day or two anyway, I'm sure it'll be fine."

If he's okay with it, that's good enough for him. Ghirahim shrugs, and steps closer, hand reaching around to slip behind Link and draw him up by his thighs.

Link giggles at the action. Allowing himself to be manhandled, he gasps when he's tossed onto the bed, eyes wide as Ghirahim crawls over top of him. His laugh becomes breathy, tinged with a hint of nervousness.

"Relax. We don't have to do anything you don't want to." Ghirahim whispers, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He leans down to kiss him, savoring the whine he gets when he draws his hand down Link's clothed chest. "Deep breaths, remember that. I won't lie and tell you it doesn't hurt at first."

At the edge of his shirt, he pulls back from the kiss, chuckling against Link's lips when his partner gives him a sweet moan, his hips bucking against Ghirahim's hand. Slipping under the shirt, he draws out the touch, gentle and light and teasing as it inches beneath his clothes.

He's met with a sticky wet feeling.

"Did you—seriously— _already?_ " He stammers, thoroughly confused, but when he draws his hand back, he sees the culprit.

Red. Runny, liquid, staining his finger tips and highlighting all the lines of his hands. Shit.

"Why'd you stop?" Link whines, but he freezes when Ghirahim sits back, hand held up.

"You were saying?"

Link groans, falling back onto the bed. There's already a weak spot forming where his wound was, seeping through his clothes.

" _Fuck._ I didn't even feel that." He complains, stretching his arms up to push his hair out of his face in a way that surely only makes more stitches pop. "That complicates things a bit."

It does. Ghirahim slides off the bed, already heading for the first aid kit.

"Back to the hospital."

"Back to the hospital." Link sighs in agreement.

"When you finally heal, I'm going to make you _pay_ for every inconvenience you've caused mover the past few days."

"Mmm, you'd better."


	4. "Logistics"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: note in the wrong text box
> 
> I stole some ideas from my other college au but it's not related to that one

"No, we're pulling into the parking lot right now. Yes, I'll see you then. Love you, bye."

Link hangs up his phone, the little call app turning red. Ghirahim parks, turns off the radio, and waits.

Fucking hell.

"That was a disaster."

"No! It was just... it went poorly, yes, but it's not hopeless." 

'Poorly' is an understatement. Appalling, catastrophic, and devastating are some better descriptors he can think of to describe the situation he's just escaped.

Link jumps when the car horn blares from Ghirahim leaning forward. His groan is drowned out by the constant noise.

Ghirahim turns his head from its place on the steering wheel (the sound cutting off as abruptly as it started). It's clear he's not in the mood for Link's optimism.

"Really? Because I think, after today, you're going to be forbidden from ever seeing me again. Goodbye, Link, it was nice knowing you."

Link sighs, but he's smiling at Ghirahim's dramatics. How dare he. This is serious.

"She can't do that." He murmurs, slipping his phone into his pocket. "Look, I'm sorry you've managed to get on every person's bad side, and somehow pissed off my best friend and her terrifying girlfriend, but trust me on this. You're no worse than the girls I've been with before. Much better, seriously."

"Am I?" Ghirahim mutters, and he wonders how much Link knows about him. Surely he's heard the rumors, most of which are true and created by himself. He had a reputation to uphold, but now that he's left that life, he's regretting every bad decision. There are many.

"My kindergarten girlfriend bit me when I wouldn't kiss her and _I_ got in trouble—"

"That was like fifty fucking years ago, she doesn't count."

"Uh, fifteen, how old do you think I am? Shut up and let me finish my tragic backstory." Link shoves him, smile growing wider. "When I was twelve I dated a girl named Peatrice, and I think she only dated me cause she thought I was gay and liked that."

"Ew." Ghirahim interrupts again, and he's met with another smack. Smirking, though he can't let Link see, he leans back against the headrest, looking out the window. 

"Yeah, I know, that lasted a grand total of three days. But then in high school I had my first boyfriend, and he was so not my type, but, small town, you know, not many options."

"I guess. Never been a problem for me." Ghirahim shrugs. He's learning very quickly Link's past is far from his.

"Anyway, he was a manipulative ass, and when I broke it off with him did the whole 'don't leave me or I'll hurt myself' thing. Fuck him."

"I'm sorry." He's not sure what to say. Relating his own experiences seems like he'd be downplaying Link's. 

"Eh, it's over. I was a little turned away from dating for a while after him, though." Link sighs, lost in thought. Ghirahim considers saying something, but he's never been good with words of comfort. He's afraid all he'll do is make it worse.

Link shakes his head, focus back on their conversation. Smiling again, he continues, "Which brings me to the _lovely_ Cia. So what I'm saying is the bar is so low all you have do to is _not stab me_ and you'll get along fine."

"For you, maybe. Zelda was two wrong glares away from slicing my neck with that shitty restaurant knife, I could see it in her eyes." 

Link looks surprised, eyes wide and pink lips parted in a silent 'o'. Ghirahim worries he's done it, gone too far and fucked this up, but the next second Link keels over with laughter, bubbly and warm. It's like everything's going to be okay.

"Oh my goddess, I'm going to tell her you said that, she'll love it!" He snorts, already reaching for his phone. "I'm always teasing her for her resting bitch face, she's going to be so happy it's as intimating as she thinks it is."

Chuckling, Link glances up from his phone to Ghirahim's confused face. "I'm serious. They don't hate you. Zelda's just shaken from what happened with Cia and doesn't want me getting hurt. Impa did warn me about you, but the Ghirahim she described wouldn't have taken me to the hospital and let me stay. It doesn't matter who you were before I met you, even if we didn't get along at first. They'll come 'round, I'm sure of it."

Reaching for his hand, Link laces his fingers with Ghirahim's. "Don't give up now. We can make this work."

He leans in, letting Ghirahim meet him halfway for a kiss. Squeezing his hand, Link pulls away with a sigh.

"Like I said, don't stab me and you've already surpassed my standards."

He's joking, but something about the way he says it hurts. Ghirahim isn't sure what to say.

"You deserve better."

Link's laughter is soft, and Ghirahim can't help but smile back. Even in the desolate parking lot behind the building, the sunlight bounces off Link's hair and lights up his face. He's golden and gorgeous, and yes, Ghirahim thinks, he deserves so much more. 

"I know. That's why I'm with you."


	5. "Distractions"

"I'm dropping out of college." 

"Like hell you are." Ghirahim brushes off Link's whining, idly flipping through a textbook he doesn't care about. None of the words make sense to him, and judging by Link's constant complaining, they don't to him either. "You want to end up like me?"

"No, this is it. This is the year I fail. This class will break me." 

Dropping his pen for dramatic effect, Link turns to Ghirahim, and he can tell he's going to continue to make a fuss. 

"I'm going home for the holidays. I won't see you again before my break. Do you really want me to spend our last hours together studying?"

"I want you to pass your classes." Ghirahim reminds him, "I think I'm more of a distraction."

Link pouts, turning back to the open workbook. "I don't want you to go. Help me study?"

"Fine." Ghirahim catches the flashcards Link throws at him, pulling them out of the plastic bag to read the label.

"Anatomy. Subtle."

"What?" Link asks innocently enough, but he's unable to hide his smile. "They're just flashcards for a class I'm in. Nothing more. C'mon, quiz me." 

He gives Ghirahim a little smirk, crossing his arms and leaning back. 

Fine. Two can play at that game. 

Ghirahim shuffles through the cards, looking for something he can retaliate with, but unfortunately there's nothing remotely sexy about the muscles of the arm and shoulder. Link wins this round.

"Okay. What's this?" He chooses a random card and points at his own body, something he can't pronounce and doesn't wish to try.

"Your arm?"

"The muscle, dumbass. You're going to fail." 

Link ducks the pillow Ghirahim tosses, giggling.

"Fuck me if I'm wrong," Link starts (looking far too pleased with himself as he pretends to think), "it's.... uh..."

"If you wanted to mess around you could have just asked."

"No, seriously, I can't remember. I'm screwed." Link groans, leaning backwards in his chair so far he nearly topples over. 

"Yeah. That's obvious."

Ghirahim does not miss the pillow when Link throws it back. 

"Ow, okay. That was uncalled for, I'm sorry, but it's the truth." He defends himself, setting the discarded set on Link's bed. "Is this all you need to know for this class?"

"No." Link sighs, pulling out a few more messy sets of flashcards. "I don't need to know everything we learned this semester, thank the goddesses, but I do need to know the entire muscular system. I'm horrible at memorization, I'll never pass."

"You should have started this weeks ago." Ghirahim chastises, met with a glare. He takes the cards from Link's hand, sifting through. 

"Okay. This clearly isn't working for you." Pulling a few from the decks, he tosses the rest on Link's desk. "So let's try something new."

Ghirahim steps back, lifting his shirt over his head, and he hears Link suck in a gasp.

"What are you doing?" 

"I'm helping."

"Helping." Link repeats with a blush.

"Yes, _helping_." He's toying with his belt now. "If you can **properly** name some important parts of the body, I'll let you touch."

He sees Link's throat shift as the man gulps, his soft lip caught between his teeth. Eyes betraying his eagerness, Link's gaze leaves where Ghirahim is slowly dragging down his jeans and moves to his face.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes! Okay," Link groans, surging up and backing Ghirahim into the bed.

"Ah! Not so fast, this is to help you _study_." He climbs away from his boyfriend, kicking off his pants and shorts. Link rolls his eyes, standing at the foot of the bed.

"Stop teasing me."

"Then get the questions right." Ghirahim snaps back, smirk widening. He picks up the flashcards, shuffles through, and picks a random one.

"What's this?"

"I don't know."

"Here?"

"Calf."

"I'm going to need a more specific name than that."

"I don't know!" Link groans, crossing his arms. He's turned his face away, cheeks pink and pointed ears twitching. He looks very cute like this. 

"Maybe you're not close enough. Come here." Ghirahim beckons him forward, and Link's crawling onto the bed after him. He sits up, taking hold of Link's wrist and guiding it down his side.

"This should be easy." He teases, letting it rest against his abs. Flustered looks even better on Link when he's close up.

"Uh...."

"Damn. You really are hopeless." Ghirahim chuckles, holding back Link's wandering hands.

"It's not my fault! You're very distracting!" Link struggles a little, avoiding the condescending smack Ghirahim aims at his hip.

"Can you at least name this?" 

Their eyes drop low as Ghirahim leads his hand further down, sliding across his inner thigh until he places Link's just over his puckered hole. Confident Link will behave, he drops hold of his wrist and reaches behind himself in a more comfortable position, knowing Link can feel as he stretches the skin and tugs himself open.

"Yeah." Link murmurs breathlessly, following Ghirahim's hand and rubbing insistent circles. He closes his eyes, and his finger slips inside.

"Hey, not so fast, you couldn't name a single thing, you think you deserve a reward?" Ghirahim teases, and Link drifts away, nervously smiling. 

"I think we're past that point." He opens a drawer, rummaging around for something hidden amongst extra bedsheets. 

Smirking, Ghirahim leans back onto his bed, watching Link rifle through his closet. 

"Call it an early gift." He laughs, tongue flicking out across his teeth. Link breathes a hushed laugh, and he's by his side a second later. 

"You sure you want to—"

He freezes at the sound of a door opening. On the other side of the flimsy partition, heavy footsteps and the sound a of bag hitting the floor reach Link's room.

"Fuck, I thought Fledge left already." He whispers, leaning up against Ghirahim and pushing them both to the wall. "I can't—I can't do that when he's right there, I'm sorry—"

"Hey." Ghirahim stops him, tucking a finger under his chin. It's a little awkward to be half hard and underneath him when he's a minute away from hyperventilating, but he'll deal. "Don't worry. Some other time."

Link shifts up closer, straddling his thighs now. "I don't—we could, if you're quiet, I could still—I could just, you know, quietly."

"Whatever you want." He encourages him, giving him a soft kiss. Link presses his hips forward, a hand coming between the two.

"Shhh. I'll never live this down if we're caught." He notes with a hint of anxiety, but he's undoing his own pants and slipping the hand into his shorts.

Ghirahim hums, reaching a hand up to cup Link's neck. Trailing kisses along his jaw, he bites at his ear, whispering, "I think it's you who we should be worried about."

Link whimpers, trying to loosely fit both cocks into his hand. He's warm where he presses against Ghirahim, doing his best to stroke two at once.

"I'm—I'm quiet," He argues, but his words pitch in tone when Ghirahim drops a hand to join him.

"Really?"

"Yes!" Link cries, a little too loud. "I, I mean yes."

Ghirahim chuckles long and low next to his ear, nibbling at the shell as he flicks his fingers over Link's tip. "Then prove it." 

Link sucks in a shaky breath, and he tucks his face into Ghirahim's shoulder to moan.

"Tsk. You can't follow directions, can you." Ghirahim mutters, smiling as Link bites at his bare shoulder to keep quiet. "Naughty little boy."

He squeezes, bumping into Link's hand, and he's rewarded with another soft moan. With mock disappointment in his voice, he starts to stroke.

"I think you want to be heard. To let others know you're mine. How dirty." He continues, pinching at Link's plush rear. Unintelligible sounds are whispered against his neck, and he reaches back up to tug Link's hair.

"Speak up. If you insist on such noise, at least use your words."

"I said no, I don't want him to hear. This is for you." Link whispers, and it sounds like he's begging. Ghirahim scoffs, and speeds his motions.

"Better hurry then. I don't think you'll be able to hold it in much longer." He laughs when Link buries his face back in his neck, his grip slackening. Ghirahim's there to keep them going, focusing his attention on Link.

"Can you do something for me? If you can, I'll forgive you for your atrocious study skills and inability to be quiet."

Link nods, panting as he bucks into Ghirahim's hand.

"Come for me." 

He gasps, nails scraping at Ghirahim's skin, freezing. He's whining a moment later, Ghirahim's stroking not ceasing.

"Come for me, Link, right now."

It takes a few more demands, but Link spills over his hand with his loudest gasp yet. Ghirahim smiles, working himself to the edge with Link's (albeit weak) help. As Link drags him down to the pillow, he murmurs, "Good boy."

Tucking himself against his chest, Link hums in answer. _Now_ he's quiet, matching the rise and fall of Ghirahim's sternum with each breath. The fake silence of the room is loud, with all the noises of the building and cars outside his window.

"I'm going to miss you when you leave." Ghirahim whispers into Link's hair, stroking the soft strands with his clean hand.

"Me too." Link sighs in agreement. "I'll be back in five-ish weeks. Maybe you could visit? It's been a few months, I think I could introduce you to my parents."

It's an idea he hasn't thought about before. Ghirahim tenses, and hopes Link doesn't notice.

"Holidays are the busiest time. I still have to pay rent somehow." He murmurs, searching for some excuse without saying an outright no. It scares him, to think of making it _that_ official. 

He tries to avoid thinking about these things. It was easy, back then, to live in the present and forget there was a future. There were never any complications, dating was only for sex and convenience. The outcome was always eventually leaving, no need to worry himself with formalities.

He doesn't wish to think of either the only two ways it will end for him and Link.

"We'll see." He settles, no real answer. It's the coward's way out, but Link doesn't seem to pick up on that. 

"I hate to think of you working extra. I mean, I know lots of people take time off, Zelda's coming back with me and some other friends, but you shouldn't... I don't want you to be alone."

"It is what it is. Nothing new." Ghirahim shrugs, shifting Link. The smaller man huffs, holding him tighter.

"It doesn't have to be. You said you were looking for better jobs, you're already working two."

"And rent keeps getting higher, considering I'm paying more than half of it myself. I'd leave, but... skeletons in the closet, can't cut Zant off without reason or warning."

Link is silent for a minute, and Ghirahim can tell he wants to say something. 

"What is it?"

"I've got a year and a half left of school before I apply for the knight academy, maybe we could find something together, nearby? It's in the heart of the city, so rent would be higher, but I'd also be working for more. You could... you could look for jobs there. I've heard tips are better at the fancy coffee shops. "

"That would be nice."

It's noncommittal, because, again, Ghirahim is avoiding thinking of their future—but it _does_ sound nice, it's something he _would_ like, he just... doesn't think he deserves it. Karma will come for him in time, and when it does, he can only prevent the worst of the damage.

"I've been thinking of moving off campus next year." Link finally says, trying to sound casual but failing. "I'm going to be looking at places when I get back in the spring. If you wanted..."

"I'll think about it." Ghirahim cuts him off, a little too coldly. Link stills, his hands slipping from around the other.

"Y-yeah. Sounds good."

With a deep sigh, Ghirahim rolls over. "Look, I don't think this is the best time to talk about this. You've still got a _lot_ of studying to do, and I should really get ready for work."

"Oh. Sorry."

The silence is deafening as Link hands him a towel to clean up with. There's not much to say as Ghirahim pulls on his pants, has to awkwardly reach under the bed for his shirt, and Link sits back down at his desk.

He doesn't know what to do. It's like walking on eggshells in a quiet house, like a cracking glass bridge above a canyon he can't see the bottom of. Sucking in a breath, he turns the knob on Link's door.

"Good luck on your finals." 

"Thanks."

"Don't drop out."

"I won't."

"See you next year?"

Link smiles a little, turning the page of his textbook without reading it.

"Ghirahim, wait." Getting up, he follows him to the open door, wrapping an arm around his neck. With a kissed pressed to his lips, Link whispers, "I'll miss you."

* * *

Two weeks later he gets a text saying _I passed!!!! :D!!!!!!_

It's followed by _thank you for helping me ;) I miss you_ and a couple pictures he saves to a hidden camera roll.


	6. Blood in the Snowmelt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea how the police/justice system works and I hope to never have to find out so Hyrule's got their own thing going on. Don't look too far into it.
> 
> This is almost copy paste because it's boring set up/ exposition, I just had to change some things to fit.

Winter has come and gone, and spring is beginning to show show it's first signs of light.

Link is in his apartment again (and Ghirahim is thinking about how someday he may say "their apartment", but that's not important. He's still ignoring it). Papers are scattered all over his kitchen table. He's been here all day, finally met the nocturnal roommate, and Ghirahim's been helping him navigate the incredibly convoluted process to get justice for his injury.

Or revenge. Ghirahim's thinking this will be more of a revenge rather than justice situation, given the hoops they're having to jump through. It's been _months_.

Link is dead set on trying, at least, but all the phone calls and documents of grievances are getting him nowhere. He's at his limit.

"I can't do this. How does anyone do this?" He groans, pushing away the second declaration of evidence form he's had to fill out, in addition to telling two separate knights from Hyrule's law enforcement what happened. For a knight-in-training, Ghirahim would think he should know this.

"They don't teach us this shit. I'm not even officially in the program, I'm a fucking chemistry major. We'll get, like, sword fighting and de-escalation training, not... secretary side jobs. I'm trying to get into the Royal Guard for _forensics_ , not to deal with personal disputes. I have no fucking clue." He sighs, banging his head against the table. He stays down, crossing his arms under his head.

"No one's going to read this anyway. I don't have enough evidence."

"You were _stabbed,_ how is that not enough evidence?" Ghirahim asks incredulously. He's never been one to look for outside help in personal problems, more of a fight it out himself type of person. A lot of trouble in Hyrule is dealt with that way.

"No one saw it but me and her. My word against hers, and she's definitely got some friends on her side."

Ghirahim's getting more agitated. He knows Cia is a low-life mobster wannabe, but when he got caught in her web, she wasn't working with the so called 'good guys'. Standing from the table, he paces across the small room, feeling trapped in the confines of the apartment.

"So we take the fight to her. She won't back from a direct challenge, and as far as I'm concerned it's legal if no one finds out."

Link makes a noise of disagreement, sitting up to look back at him.

"Ghirahim, I can't. I'm trying to get in knight school, and not just any, the _Royal Academy,_ if anything gets on my record..."

"So I will fight her. I have some... I wouldn't say friends, but others who would love a chance to get a hit in. You don't have to deal with this anymore."

Link is silent. He doesn't even deny the offer. Concerned, Ghirahim turns back to see Link staring out the window, lost in thought.

"Link?" He walks up behind him, hands resting on the back of his chair. His boyfriend doesn't respond to his presence.

"What's wrong?"

Link's shoulders drop, a deep sigh of regret. Ghirahim is very worried now, pulling out the chair next to him so he can listen.

"She's been... she's been texting me." He begins, pulling out his phone and punching in the numbers. "Telling me if I try anything other than this, she will ruin my life. And she can."

Handing the phone to Ghirahim, he lets him scroll through a sea of blue and grey messages.

"At first it was just—she was just going to spread rumors about me, you know, stupid 'dirty secrets' that aren't true. I don't care, the people I care about know that's not me, and honestly I don't think people who know me would believe her lies anyway. Some of her threats were, uh, way too creative."

Ghirahim sneers in disgust at an earlier message, something that absolutely sounds like a fantasy Cia would make up.

"I don't care. She can call me a slut all she wants, say I was a bad boyfriend even though we were never really together... but then she started threatening my chance of getting into school."

Link isn't looking at Ghirahim, eyes downcast at the paperwork, tears threatening to spill.

"This is the only way. I'm... I'm scared she'll take it further. She's made vague threats of hurting my friends if I don't drop this, but right now she's allowing me to do this much."

Sighing, Ghirahim shuts off the cell phone. "Link, I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to deal with this alone."

Link shakes his head, a choked sob getting caught in his throat.

"No, that's what she wants. I have to do this alone, no one else can get hurt."

Ghirahim is angry. He's been angry, but now he's _furious. Outraged._ Cia has always been skilled at manipulating those she wants under her power, made him do some things he's not proud of... and he'll do them again. For Link.

"Look at me." Ghirahim orders, reaching for Link's hand. "You're not doing this alone. You don't even have to get involved with this anymore. Fill out your forms, do what you need to do to secure your reputation, but leave her be. Block her number, whatever it takes. I've got this covered."

Link whines in protest, taking Ghirahim's hand and squeezing it, hard. "No, you don't have to... you _can't_ , she'll hurt you..."

"Nothing worse than she's done before." Ghirahim takes a deep breath, avoiding Link's eyes. "I'm sure you've heard the rumors about my past. And I'm sure most of what you've heard about me is true, even if you ignore it. I'm assuming that's why you're still here; you don't believe it. I got tangled up with some people I didn't want to get involved with again—until now. Revenge is a common goal that works wonders."

His words are vague, not openly suggesting anything. The less Link knows the safer he is, the better protected his chances of a future are. Still, he's not going to do anything if Link doesn't want him to.

"I need to know if you will let me do this. If it makes you feel better, it's not just about you. I've been waiting for a chance to get back at Cia for years, and if I play this right, she'll never know this isn't only about me and her."

Link doesn't outright deny him. He looks from the paperwork to their clasped hands, catching his breath as he calms himself down. Ghirahim gives him all the time he needs.

"I don't know. I'll think about it." He concedes, and it's not a refusal, so Ghirahim takes what he can get. He gently wraps an arm around Link's shoulder, letting the knight come to him if he wants. Link does, leaning into the embrace.

"I'm sorry for dragging you into this." Link whispers, wiping away his tears. Ghirahim scoffs, a soft smile coming back.

"Don't be. Life was getting boring here, anyway. You think I want to stay inside doing nothing all day? You make life exciting." Guiding him to the couch, Ghirahim pulls him down to comfort him, distracting him from the work he's been busy with all day.

"Forget about it for now. C'mon, you've been here all day but I feel like I've barely spent any time with you. I'll pirate a movie, or, if you want, we can use your Netflix account," Ghirahim rolls his eyes, still amazed Link is paying for that when you can find anything on the internet for free (if you know where to look), "You can spend the night. I'll text Zant to warn him now, not that he's even coming back for the night anyway."

Tucking a finger under his chin, Ghirahim lifts Link's gaze to his, glad to see the tears have dried. "So, what do you say? Netflix?"

"Just Netflix?" Link grins, biting at his lip as he pushes himself up on his arms. "I can think of a few other things we could do at the same time."

Ghirahim raises an eyebrow and feigns ignorance. "Oh? Like what?"

Ah, that does it. Link blushes, light pink creeping onto his freckled cheeks, and he tilts his head away.

"Just... other... things, you know." He murmurs, leaning in close again. His lips brush against his boyfriend's. "I'm sure you can think you something too."

"Other things, in general? Or specifically with you? I do have some job applications I should get started on..."

Link laughs, a small, breathy exhale, and he rests his forehead against Ghirahim's, eyes falling shut.

"You can do whatever you want, as long as it's with me. . ."

"Whatever I want?" Ghirahim teases, his lips ghosting over Link's.

"Mmhmm."

"Good. Because I am going to. . ."

In a graceful motion, he's off the couch, Link in his arms. The knight's eyes fly open, surprised at being handled this way.

"Make you take care of yourself. Have you even eaten today? Drank water?"

Link gives him an indignant scoff, wrapping his arms around Ghirahim's shoulders. He acts annoyed, but as he tucks his head against Ghirahim's neck, he's smiling.

"Yeah, like, in the morning." He co-operates as Ghirahim sets him back on the kitchen table.

"Too long ago. I'll order takeout." Pulling up the menus on his phone, Ghirahim adds, "We'll try Netflix first, but if we don't find anything we can agree on, I'm not paying for something."

Link huffs and crosses his arms, but he doesn't disagree. Gently kicking at Ghirahim's shins, he asks, "And is that all you'll do?"

"You were a mess two minutes ago."

"I'm fine now." Link remarks, but it's not argumentative. He's not given up, but he's caught onto the hint that Ghirahim isn't up for everything he wants. Ghirahim knows he'll be fine with what he still has to offer.

"Not tonight."

He sighs, placing a hand on Link's thigh as he holds up the digital menu to their favorite take out place. Link gratefully accepts.

"But soon. I promise."


	7. "Beauty is Pain"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: there's a reference to Link taking some kind of regular medication and Ghirahim driving while intoxicated in the past (both are very vague)

"Pass me the highlighter."

"You don't need anymore." Link responds, handing the disk to Ghirahim anyway. He's trying to do his own makeup, which is much harder to do in a bathroom that's not his own with a boyfriend who's constantly needy.

"Who ever came up with 'less is more' was incurably hetero," Ghirahim ignores his advice, gently applying the shimmering power across his cheekbones again, "and a cis man, or riding one's dick. 'Pick me' doesn't look good on you, darling."

Link scoffs, and, of course, smears the eyeliner he tried so hard to get right. Frowning, he reaches for the remover.

"We're going to be late, you keep making me mess up." He pouts, glancing in Ghirahim's direction to see he's unsurprisingly being ignored, "We have to walk all the way there. If you would just let me drive—"

"Ha! No. You drive worse sober than I do drunk."

"How do you know—"

"Never mind." Ghirahim waves off Link's concern, something he's been doing lately. Link turns back to the mirror, an uneasy feeling in his chest.

"Besides, you're not supposed to operate heavy machinery with your meds. That means _cars_ , not fucking forklifts."

Shaking his head, Link attempts his wing again. He's almost got it, but Ghirahim reaches over the counter and bumps his arm at the last second. He's left with a black mark across his face and weak apology.

Giving up for now, Link steps back, checking his outfit out in the mirror space he's been left. 

"Is this too much? I feel really exposed."

"It's a party, people will lose most of their clothes an hour in anyway. No one's going to care."

"Easy for you to say, you don't have a half healed scar across your torso." Sighing, Link skims a finger across the wound, stitches removed long ago but the skin still red and twisted. It probably will be for a long time. 

"Half healed, no, but scar? Yes. It's nothing to be ashamed of." Ghirahim points to the marred area on his own chest, one he's gone as far as outlining with a permanent diamond. Link's never asked how he got it.

"Don't worry so much, I think it's cool, and your outfit doesn't draw that much attention to it, given how much _else_ it's showing off. The black looks good on you."

Ghirahim runs a hand through his hair, stopping to lightly press against the red earrings Link is using as an accent. A hand drifting down to one of the diamonds cut out of the tight material, he smirks and exclaims, "We match!"

Link still looks unconvinced.

"Hey, if you really hate it, just wait a few years and cover it like I did."

Link nods, tugging his shirt down to cover anyway. There's a few minutes pause in which Ghirahim returns to the makeup strewn across the sink.

"I do want a tattoo, eventually. A sword, here on my arm."

"Diamond. On my face, right here." Ghirahim flips his bangs aside, pointing at his cheek where a faint scar is normally hidden. Link rolls his eyes and turns back to the bathroom mirror.

"You'll look stupid. Do that and I'm breaking up with you."

"Really?" His boyfriend asks teasingly, leaning across the counter.

"No, I'm only joking." Link laughs, picking up the liner brush again. "Do what you want."

"I have a few more, it's enough."

"Really? Where?" 

He knows he shouldn't have expected a real answer, but the way Ghirahim smirks has him giggling and turning away.

"I'll show you some time. I'm surprised you haven't noticed by now." His grin widens, tongue flicking out." Now, we're going to be late, hurry up."

"I just—" Link groans exasperatedly, but he doesn't finish his statement. Back to the task at hand, he raises the brush to his eyelid.

"This is the third time you've done that, do you need help?"

He hasn't made contact yet, so he pauses and considers. After a few seconds, there's a feeble "yes".

Ghirahim tells Link to close his eyes, swiping the brush across the lid in a fluid motion. He adjusts the point, blowing softly so the liquid dries faster.

"One more thing. You can open now."

Link slowly blinks his eyes open in time to see Ghirahim swipe a pink color across his lips, and then he's leaning in, pressed against Link's own. Eyes wide, Link squeaks in surprise, embarrassed as Ghirahim pulls away with a low chuckle. 

"There. Perfect."

"Stupid." Link mutters, unable to hide his smile and blush. He hopes the makeup is enough to keep it hidden. 

"C'mon, lets go." He grabs Ghirahim's arm, dragging him from the bathroom before the other can say anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did you get the reference
> 
> im sorry
> 
> (i considered putting a content warning for that too)


	8. "Come Clean"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warnings: Discussion of past abuse, all the stuff Ghirahim did in the past that made him a villain, Link talks about having depression, Ghirahim's POV while he's nearly black out drunk

Ghirahim's head feels as if it's splitting open when he wakes up. There's too much light, it's early, there's noise coming from outside the building. A neighbor's dog (which they aren't supposed to have in the apartment) won't stop barking.

It seems like it's going to be another terrible day, but the bed shifts next to him and Link cuddles closer.

"Good morning." He whispers, his words slurred and sleepy, and he yawns the last couple syllables. Blinking blearily up at him, Link smiles.

"You look like shit."

" _Thanks_." Ghirahim groans, covering his eyes from the sunlight. Link laughs against his neck, soft and warm, and pulls the blankets around them.

"You should have taken your makeup off."

"I _know_."

"How are you feeling?"

" _Great_."

Link laughs again, sighing into the comforting presence around him. He's quiet for a few moments, before he shifts again and asks, "Are you hungry? I'm hungry. I want to go back to sleep but I think I'm more hungry than tired." 

"Honestly I feel like I'm going to throw up."

In a flurry of motion that Ghirahim didn't think was possible so early in the morning, Link is standing by the bed as he tosses a plastic bag at him.

"Only for if you don't make it to the bathroom. I'm going to go get breakfast."

Ghirahim smiles as he watches him leave, resigning himself to finally getting out of bed.

* * *

"Feeling better?"

"Mmm."

Ghirahim steps into the tiny kitchen, leaning against the counter as Link fumbles with cabinets he's too short to reach. He's only wearing one of Ghirahim's shirts, and every time he reaches too high the back hikes up. Ghirahim likes it.

"This yours?"

Link turns back holding a box Ghirahim hasn't bothered to open, and he nods. "You have horrible taste in cereal."

"I know." He yawns, closing his eyes and gripping the counter as another wave of nausea passes, "I wasn't planning on eating it."

"Why do you have it then?"

"Emergencies?" He shrugs, leaning over the counter. "I'm making coffee, want any?"

"I'm not supposed to have caffeine."

"More for me." Ghirahim mutters, absently going through the motions. Of all the addictions to have, this one is the most socially acceptable, if not the least harmless. "Same as why you don't drink?"

Link sighs, setting down the fancy not-milk Ghirahim buys, and answers, "Yeah. I've been doing better, I don't want to risk it."

"Good for you." Hugging him to his side, Ghirahim adds, off hand, "I'm proud of you."

Link doesn't say anything, but he blushes at the praise. Beaming, he pulls away, balancing his cereal bowl in one hand and slipping the other into Ghirahim's. 

He hops up on the counter while Ghirahim watches the coffee drip slowly out of the broken machine, fidgeting as he eats his breakfast and waits in silence. 

Something's wrong. 

"We need to... I _want_ to talk to you."

Ghirahim tenses, shoulders stiff as he tries to stay calm. There's a million scenarios running through his head, each worse than the next, and Link's cautious tone isn't helping.

"Yeah?" He tries to act casual, brushing off the question and continuing with the coffee creation. He forgets to add sugar. Link doesn't miss this.

"It's... there's been a few times..." He hears Link take a deep breath, and the clink of the bowl being set down. "Last night, when we were walking back...."

"I don't remember."

"You said some things that have been bothering me."

"I say a lot of things that bother you."

"Yeah, but these were worse."

Avoiding his gaze, Ghirahim walks to the opposite wall, staring out the window with the too hot coffee in his hand. He burns his tongue.

"Ghirahim…"

"I don't know. Can't remember."

The problem is he does remember, and he has no regrets.

* * *

_"I'll kill that fucking bitch! If she **ever** ," he has to stop walking, catching his breath as he wards off dizziness, "if she **ever** gets near you, that's it! Lights out, end of the line, she'll die in excruciating and painful agony, what she fucking deserves for—"_

_"Ghirahim, calm down, you're really loud."_

_"AM not!" He shouts, which is probably why Link was telling him to be quiet. Leaning against him, Ghirahim staggers forward, fumbling with the keys Link snatches from his hands._

_"You're going to hurt yourself."_

_"Been there, done that, darling." He slurs, twisting a finger in Link's hair. It's **so** soft, and smells really nice. Link is soft and smells really nice. _

_"Keep the death threats to a minimum before we get in the house, okay?" He can't really tell, but Link may be laughing. He might be ignoring what he just said._

_"Why?" Ghirahim whines, and he's still stuck to Link's side as they walk up the stairs. It's hard, and he nearly trips the other a couple times. He hopes the kisses pressed against his cheek are apologies enough._

_"Ew, your breath smells like rubbing alcohol." Okay, Link **is** laughing now, which is good. If Link's happy he's happy. Link deserves to be happy. Link should always be happy. Link shouldn't have to hurt. He shouldn't have to deal with Cia. He shouldn't have to—_

_He's interrupted from his disjointed thoughts again by Link shoving him through the door._

_"Get in there before you scare the neighbors." He smiles, shutting the door behind them. He's perfect, he's so pretty, he's really cute, he wants to fuck him—oh, was he talking?_

_"Too late." He grins, world swirling a little as he stumbles into the kitchen. Link follows after, hands barely leaving his body as he guides him around._

_"You should sleep." His **boyfriend** whispers (and how lucky he is to **finally** call this man his own. he needs to act like it), "You're a mess."_

_"Always am!" Ghirahim cackles in response, and it's too loud and grating for his own ears. Sliding down against the counter, he sits on the floor, tugging at Link's hand._

_"I'm sorry I haven't fucked you yet." He whispers, giggling, as Link sits cross legged in front of him. "I know you want to. I should. I could? Now? I don't know how good I am. I'm not a top, really."_

_"Shh, not now, it's okay." Link comforts him, sliding close and massaging the back of his hand with his thumb. If he's surprised by his outburst, he doesn't show it. He's smiling, he's so pretty when he smiles. He should always smile. "I'm sure you're great, but you need to rest._

_"Drunk sex is not fun. You don't feel anything. Which is good, I guess, when your man doesn't fucking know how to use lube or what the fuck.... like, teasing, is. I forgot the word." Ghirahim laughs, shaking his head. Link's still smiling, but he looks kind of sad. Kind of? Kind... of? Can you be kind of sad? Can you feel happy and sad at the same time? That doesn't seem right. Link must be happy._

_"But, yeah, he fucking **sucked**. Actually, I was the one that sucked." He hears Link exhale at his joke, but he's not laughing. It wasn't that funny anyway. "He was always.... all he wanted was **sex** , which was fun at first, but, but, I don't know. I don't know."_

_"Ghirahim, maybe we should get to bed. It's three in the morning."_

_"I'm not tired." He whines, but Link drags him up from the floor and he nearly falls asleep on his shoulder. "I want, there's so much I haven't told you. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."_

_"You can tell me in the morning." Link sighs, helping to his bedroom. "I'll be here."_

_"Will you?"_

_Link nods, sitting him down on the bed. "I'll be right here."_

_"You don't have to be. You probably shouldn't. You're too good for me. I've done a lot of shit that would make you leave."_

_"Ghirahim. In the morning."_

_"I just mean—you know Cia? She **fucking** stabbed you, I used to work with her, I would have stabbed you too. I'm going to kill her, for you, I don't care what you say. She messed with me for the last time, I'll get away with it, I have before—"_

_" **Ghirahim!** " Link yells, and it's the first time he's raised his voice. He's taken aback, shocked into silence as Link glares at him._

_"I'm not leaving, you're not killing anyone, and you're going to shut up before you tell me anything else you'll regret in the morning. Okay? If you're quiet, I'll cuddle you."_

_He nods, some receptor in his brain finally telling him he needs to stop talking. Link smiles again (so pretty when he smiles), and walks away from the bed._

_"I'm going to get ready for bed, can you wait ten more minutes? I'll help you if you've calmed down."_

_He nods again. Maybe if he lays down he'll be able to do what Link wants._

_Ghirahim is asleep by the time Link comes back._

* * *

"Okay, then I'll tell you." Link stands up from the counter, a hint of anger in his voice. "One, you're self destructing and see nothing wrong, you don't think you 'deserve me'; two, you're _serious_ about getting revenge on Cia, and I've told you, leave her to me; and three, you..." Link trails off, worrying his lip. "Ghirahim, what happened to you?"

Where to begin. There's so much Link doesn't know, it would take days to confess everything. Ghirahim's not even sure he remembers half the horrible things he's done without a second thought. It takes him a while to find the courage to respond.

"I'm sure you've heard." Is all he finally manages to say, afraid to face him and see the disappointment in his eyes.

"I've heard a lot, but I want to hear it from _you_."

"Yeah?" He growls, spinning around. "You want to hear about how I dropped out of school because I was too lazy to keep up? Every drug I've used to forced myself to get high out of my mind to feel something? Every asshole in this city I've whored myself out to for favors, all because I couldn't keep up with what was expected of me?" 

Taking a deep breath, Ghirahim sets the coffee cup on the table. "I'm sure you've heard some of the big name bad guys. Cia, Ganondorf... Demise." It takes all his strength to whisper the name, jaw shaking as he holds himself together. "And I'm sure you know they never do shit themselves. It's always someone else that does the dirty work and gets caught."

He flinches away when Link walks forward, terrified he'll see hatred in his eyes. There's none, Link only looks upset. When he reaches out, it's an offer.

Ghirahim takes his hand.

"No. I don't care about that. I want to know _why_. I want to know how I can help." He murmurs, stepping close and pulling him into a tight hug. Out of his line of sight, Ghirahim feels himself cry freely.

"I'm trying to move on." He admits, accepting the embrace and returning the affection. "I'm trying to listen to you and leave it in the past. I don't know why you're okay with this..."

"Because you've changed." Link answers, muffled against his chest. Ghirahim scoffs.

"Have I? I think regret is the first step, and I don't regret a thing."

Link shifts still speaking into his shirt. "Really?"

"Well..." He keeps telling himself he doesn't, but the more he sees of how kind Link is, the more he wonders if that's true. "Maybe I don't look at my memories of old mast— _Demise_ , his name is Demise and I'm going to call him that—I'm not exactly _fond_ of him, and if I had a chance to go back, that's where it all went wrong..."

He mumbles, not sure where he's going. Link pulls away, taking both his hands into his own.

"What you did then doesn't count. It's what you'd do now." 

One look at his face tells Ghirahim he's been crying too, and he's a little surprised. Link swipes a fist across his eyes, and continues.

"I don't want you hurting yourself anymore. I know you want to help me, protect me, but killing Cia will do more harm than good. You may still think it's the only way, but promise me you won't do anything rash?"

"Link, I've already killed people."

"I know."

Ghirahim's eyes widen at the matter-of-fact way Link states it. There's no disgust, nor pride, nor emotion. It's a statement, something that can't be changed. 

" _Innocent_ people." He presses, which he knows is self destructive in its own way. It's like he _wants_ a reaction, he _wants_ Link to be scared or hurt or confused. He still stays blank.

"If they got involved with you, innocent is debatable." Link mutters, avoiding his gaze. "My best friend is Hylia's daughter, you think I haven't made a few mistakes?"

Before he can ask, Link clarifies "Not as bad as you, trust me, but I'm not as much of a perfect golden child as you think. And..." He turns away, humming as he hesitates.

"Yes?"

"I've been thinking."

"Have you?" 

Link laughs, tears dry, as he sits down at the kitchen table. "Phenomenal, I know. No, I've just... I might be wrong."

His hearts stops. Ghirahim sucks in a breath, keeping his distance. "About?"

"Cia. Maybe revenge is the best option."

Again, it's said as such a statement of fact that Ghirahim's taken off guard. Link turns in his seat, smile wide. "If it would make you feel better. Do your worst."

"Really?" Ghirahim stutters, still shocked as Link bounces up again. 

"Uh huh. If that'll really help you sleep at night, you have my support."

"I was going to do it anyway." He mutters, and Link laughs as he hops into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist. 

"I know. That's why I think it's better if I let you. I want this work, Ghirahim. I want _us_ to work." He whispers, fingers tangling in the snowy hair at the nape of his neck. "If this will prove to you that I don't care about your past, and will prove to _you _you've moved on, it will be best for both of us."__

__He presses a kiss against his lips, gentle and chaste, one more request on his mind._ _

__"Don't kill her. Please. And come home safe." Link begs, curling into Ghirahim's neck. He kisses the smooth skin there, waiting for a response. "Promise?"_ _

__"I promise."_ _


	9. *Revenge is Revenge*

The city looks different at night. Different, unfamiliar, ever changing to accommodate the constant passage of time. But not that different. 

He never thought he'd return here.

Unlike Hyrule itself, it looks the same. Nothing's changed.

No one's changed, Ghirahim thinks as he rounds the corner. He knows better than to enter through the main door, the extravagate carvings and statues made to hide what really happens. It's a modern day castle, a palace for the upper class hiding a den for the lowest. It had always been there, watching, keeping them in line like a reward they would never reach. A threat, and a promise.

No, Ghirahim ignores the dark iron gates that look out of place under florescent lights. Hidden amongst the skyscrapers, tucked in the corner of alleyways and crumbling brick walls, are the places he's searching for. Once, he may have been trusted enough for a taste of the high life. It was never worth the price.

He finds what he's looking for, a unassuming barred door that looks as if it would fall apart when opened. He wonders how many have stumbled past it, how many have been close enough to certain death and wandered on by, taking some shortcut they'll never take again. He leans against the wall, disgusted at himself for returning.

He's shrouded in darkness, but it's not enough to hide his identity. He was never one for hiding in the shadows, and to start now would be to cause suspicion. There's nothing left to hide anymore; that's what he wants them to think.

"Look at you. Never thought you'd come crawling back here."

The door's barely open, anyone untrained wouldn't have noticed. Ghirahim fights the urge to rip it open, demand their allegiance or bring an end to their pitiful livelihoods.

Deep breath. Don't snap, he needs them on his side.

"I've been having some trouble with Cia lately. I hadn't thought her worth my time, but she's been interfering with things she knows not to. My offer stands as this: follow my lead, one time only, and you may join us in enacting vengeance. If you're still capable of such things." He murmurs nonchalantly, the art of manipulation coming back to him easily. Thinly veiled insults and dark promises have always been his forte. 

His only answer is a low chuckle, dark and brooding as it's owner. The door creaks open farther, permitting him entrance if he so chooses. He knows better than to fall prey to the lion's den, and waits outside for a verdict. 

Inside, there's more people in the dimly lit room, and if he cared to try he could name them all. He doesn't, and as long as he can get one or two more on his side, he's fine. They'll follow whoever has taken place as leader, moths to light and flies to the spider's web.

It's a long pause as he waits, and Ghirahim worries he's miscalculated. Most have moved on, let the trouble pass over even though it hasn't been that long. Life moves fast, and he's reopening old wounds.

Out into the street light steps a man taller and stronger than him with half the wit. He glances his way, noting new scars across his face, tastelessly smeared makeup, as always, doing a poor job of hiding them.

"Never thought you'd turn traitor, Ghirahim." Volga remarks casually, but the insult is there. Gritting his teeth, he ignores it. 

Mostly.

"Yeah? At least this time _I'll_ get away with it."

Undeterred and only smirking that Ghirahim took the bait, his once ally continues on. "But then again you were pretty upset about getting cut off by your sugar daddy, so you went to the only chick that didn't care about the law to get back at him. Trying to regain his favor? Hate to break it to you, but Ganondorf's in charge now. No one knows what happened to your—"

"Shut the fuck up, this isn't about Demise. Do you want to take Cia down a notch or not?"

Volga acts as if he's pondering the question, stoking his chin with such mockery Ghirahim has to hold back his growl. Finally, the man shrugs, as if Ghirahim hadn't asked him risk his life for petty revenge.

"Why not? It's been a little boring around here. Whaddya say, Wiz? Want to get back at that bitch for what's she's done?"

From the darkness steps another reason Ghirahim doesn't sleep at night. He groans in defeat, angered and humiliated by the laughter that ensues.

"Thought you'd never ask!"

* * *

The only way this could have ever possibly worked was with incredibly delicate and skillful planning, and Ghirahim has thought of everything. There will be no mistakes this time, and no second chances.

Link is on his mind as he scales the broken fence, all he's promised him. Don't get caught, don't kill anyone, don't worry if he can't do this. Come home safe.

He still can't entirely pinpoint why he cares.

The night is dark, the outskirts of the city downtrodden and forgotten. This area has been left to rot, and as the hours stretch into early morning, the chances of running into anyone are low. Disappearances happen out here, where the city meets the woods. Even the addicts avoid this.

Ghirahim has to pause for the other two, their technique nowhere near as refined as his. It's a pain, to have to wait on them, but if he complains too much, he risks their betrayal. He walks the fine line between gaining their obedience or annoyance through his insults, but he can only hold his tongue for so long. 

"Do tell me if you can't keep up, this is a tad bit out of your league." He snarks, not even giving them a glance back as he trudges through the overgrown gardens of this stronghold. Once a beautiful temple (though that was long before any living memory), the snaking maze of hedges and dead roses offer decent cover as they approach. Hidden behind a crumbling wall, Ghirahim signals them to stop.

"Quick in, quick out, do not kill her." The reminder is harsh, but it needs to be said. One wrong move could compromise them all, and there's too much at stake. He doesn't have time for missteps. At this point, it is far beyond simple petty revenge.

"Aw, that's no fun!"

"Shut up, all this is supposed to do is intimidate her." Ghirahim takes a deep breath, he had forgotten how brash Wizzro could be. "She's got the knights on her side, if you get caught for murder, we're all getting taken down."

"And you've got a problem with that?"

Ignoring Volga's question, meant to incite an argument and get him to spill things he'd rather keep secret, Ghirahim checks his phone for the fifth time that night.

"Zant has detonators on the west side of the building. On my signal, he'll cause a distraction and we can get in alright."

"You managed to pull him from Ganon?" Volga whistles, the only sign he's impressed by _anything_ Ghirahim has done (as if _he_ could do better). "Must have been hard." 

He thinks of missed rent payments and forgotten keys. "He owes me a couple favors."

They wait in silence for a few more minutes, watching for some sign Cia is in the abandoned temple she calls a base. Zant had forewarned him she was returning when he first sent him here, but he wants the confirmation.

There's no movement from inside, no lights on. It's not an indicator she isn't present, but he wants to see evidence with his own eyes.

The seconds tick by as he waits, eyes darting between the building and his phone, watching for something to go wrong. Everything is in place, but there's a narrow window it will stay that way.

It's sacrilege to even consider what he's about to do, and he thinks of his perfect Hylian boyfriend who never misses a goddess statue and still believes in shit like the triforce and destiny. He almost feels guilty.

But what Cia's doing is worse. This is justifiable. So he tells himself.

There's movement near the entrance. He holds his breath, watching the shadows pass. Too tall to be her, too many to pinpoint a single person. It's not _enough_. He's not here to kill her, but if he takes out a couple of her turncoat minions in the process, who cares.

Less competition for Link.

A flicker of light by the sanctum. A shadow of a woman across the window. All the proof he needs she's doing some witchy shit. His finger hovers over the send button on his phone, ready to tell Zant they need to do this _now_.

"Alright, we have two minutes before—"

The booming explosion and flash of light come all too quickly.

" _Fuck!_ Zant, you fucking— Guess we don't have time anymore, Wizzro get your ass to where you're supposed to be!" Ghirahim hisses, motioning for him to go. He hadn't even sent the go signal, Zant must have seen her himself. It's one set back, he tells himself, just one. They can still do this. Narrowing his eyes as the greasy nobody pulls out a hand gun, Ghirahim motions for him to leave again.

"Never thought I'd be taking orders from you, but it's good to be back!" The rat of a man speeds off, cackling like he's possessed.

"And I never thought I'd have to deal with your grating voice again, dear." Ghirahim smiles sweetly, forcing the bile back down his throat. He hates the lot of them, and if it weren't for the fact he hates Cia more, they'd be dead in a ditch before dawn. He's changed, he's not killing anyone tonight. He promised. "Now hurry the fuck up."

Carefully planned and sloppily executed distractions out of the way, Ghirahim follows after Volga as they head to the opposite side of the building. 

They need to get into the second story window for this to work, and the brambles growing up the side will have to work as a ladder. Ghirahim pulls himself up, doing his best to avoid the thorns. It's not enough.

"Didn't think to bring a ladder?" Volga mutters from beneath him, and Ghirahim has to force himself not to kick in his direction. He uses the frustration to shatter the glass a moment later. There's more blood, but through the adrenaline he doesn't notice. 

He's lucky the broken window didn't alert anyone, and reluctantly admits Zant and Wizzro must have done their jobs right. Helping Volga through the opening, he prays nothing else will go wrong.

As if the goddess would hear his desperate prayers from the temple he's desecrating. He's on his own.

It's dark as they traverse through the abandoned hallways, not meeting any guard dogs along the way. The plan had worked, to get in undetected, and get to Cia unseen. He's betting a lot on her dedication to the dark arts, hoping she's too much of a coward to stop her stupid fake spell or whatever until he can get to her. It wasn't a crucial part of the plan, but would make everything go much smoother.

He can't help but feel as if the walls are closing in on him as they take the path of least resistance, alone in the temple. They've switched places, and it has done no good to Ghirahim's nerves to have Volga in his blind spot. It's awkward, silently walking alongside him, the man having nearly a foot on him and following so closely behind. He's nervous, hand already reaching for the hidden dagger. Just in case.

Breaking the silence, the other murmurs, "You say you've changed, Sword. All I've seen is you've grown careless." He's still out of sight, voice reverberating off the walls even in his low whispers.

"Fuck off with the code names, it's not like all of Hyrule doesn't know who we are." Ghirahim mutters, but he's met with jests that he's just bitter.

"It's been a while, but you don't seem to have forgotten anything. How's your so called straight and easy life treating you?"

He doesn't grace him with an answer.

"You know, Ghirahim, if you wanted to come back," The man begins, drawing out the question as he brushes past. Ghirahim tenses as their arms come in contact. "All you had to do is ask." 

"I've told you, this is a one time deal."

"Really?" Volga questions, and Ghirahim should have seen this coming. In a flurry of motion he's trapped against the wall, backed into a corner in a threat. Volga smirks down at him, even as Ghirahim's knife snaps up to his neck. _Don't kill him, you promised Link._

He knows his heavy breathing is giving away his anxiety, tensing as the taller man chuckles and lifts up his chin. Ghirahim presses his knife down harder, met with a hiss and a hint of blood. Their showdown is tense, but unevenly matched. One wrong move and he'll silence his opponent for good. 

_No. Link. **Fuck** , this promise was harder to keep than expected._

After giving him a pat on his cheek, Volga backs off, leaving Ghirahim seething. "If you change your mind, you know where to find me." He saunters down the hallway, too arrogant for his own good. He can imagine the knife in his hand buried in his back, making him regret they ever met.

Even in the dark he sees him turn back with a wink, and it takes all of Ghirahim's strength to not blurt out 'I have a _real_ boyfriend now!' Deep breaths, think of Link.

Keeping Link safe is more important. His hand tightens around the dagger.

"Let's just find Cia."

* * *

As he had hoped, Cis is still in the sanctum, guarded only by two faceless strangers clothed in black. Her face may be covered, her words unintelligible gibberish, but it's her, all right. 

Unseen, he slips up next to one guard, taking them out with a well aimed strike with the hilt of his dagger. They go down, only a soft noise as he covers their mouth, and he moves on. Ghirahim doesn't want to find out if Volga listened and only knocked them out. He's got his sights on a better prize, honing in on the self proclaimed witch.

Cia notices him before he wanted her to, her head snapping up in that _horrid_ plague doctor style mask, and he freezes. 

"Ghirahim."

"Oh, hello, Cia. I'm surprised you're still among the living. I'd say this meeting is a surprise as well, but I think we both knew it was coming." He grins, the fake confidence that got him through so much a defense of its own. Stalking forward, he finds some sick satisfaction as she flinches back.

"I don't care what you have to say now, come back later and I might consider sparing you." She grits out, turning her back to him. An insult, sure, but a **mistake**. A deadly one.

"Hmm. No, I don't think I will." He shrugs, and the first of his throwing daggers leaves his hands. It grazes her arm, knocking her out of the intricate circle on the floor, and she staggers back.

"You're messing with things far out of your control, you imbecile!" She screeches, hands still holding the book open. For good measure, Ghirahim kicks away one of the candles of her circle. He never believed in this shit anyway.

"And what do you expect to do about it? You never were good a fighting, always had others doing your dirty work for you." He coos, playing with the tip of another knife. He's trying for a very nuanced persona, if he lets slip how terrified he is of messing up it'll all go to hell. She's nervous now, keeping him in her line of sight. How _easy_ it would be to just kill her. He promised.

Instead, he throws another knife, catching that stupid hat he always hated. She rips her mask off, eyes wild with terror, but won't back down.

"It's been years. Move on, asshole." She hisses, still trying to continue her 'dark magic'. Her eyes flick around for an exit, and he knows he has her cornered.

"That's a thought! Move on, forgive and forget. Should be easy enough. We parted on less than stellar terms, but the animosity should have burned over by now!" He scoffs, kicking another candle. This one rolls away, out of reach, and he remarks, "You're going to burn this place down, playing with fire, you know."

As if on cue, a nearby curtain begins to smoke, a time bomb ticking down. Glancing at the growing flames, he shakes his head disapprovingly. 

"Move on. How can I? I've run into some trouble recently, trouble that could have been avoided if it weren't for your meddling, and I've been very... displeased about this." He thinks he's being vague enough, there's a million things she could have caused. He smiles triumphantly. 

Cia is watching him warily now, inching toward her staff. He'd rather not turn his back on the smoke, but she's almost opposite it and if she lunges, she can reach her weapon. When the threat sinks in, she stills, relaxing and straightening her back. Good. This means she's willing to bargain now, and he will _graciously_ allow her mercy before the smoke engulfs the room. 

His smile falters when she doesn't have the intended expression.

"I haven't done anything that would have affected you directly." She murmurs, looking him up and down. "I've been focused on... no. Unless..."

Ghirahim panics, raising another throwing knife. "It doesn't matter if it was direct or not, you are at fault for my misfortune and will pay the price!"

There's not much time, even with Volga guarding the door (at least, he's _supposed_ to be), he needs to get it to where she is at his mercy. He may not be planning to kill her, but she doesn't need to know that.

Snapping her book closed, and muttering something about spirits descending on he who interrupts the rituals, she turns to him with much less fear than is warranted.

"This is about Link, isn't it? I was right?"

She smiles, and though he thought he hadn't reacted, Ghirahim curses himself. She knows, and it's too late.

"All I've done are a few silly love spells and made sure he can't escape my grasp. I've been so attentive to him these past months, there's no way you could be hurt without involvement with him." She laughs, throwing her head back and exposing her neck, and adds, "He really was seeing you on the side, what a fucking slut."

"You don't get to insult him!" Ghirahim snaps, and in a flash the dagger is pressed against her neck. She hadn't even been that close, it's evident she wasn't expecting this. Eyes wide, she claws at the knife.

"Don't you fucking dare, you don't even deserve to say his name." He spits, and for a second Cia looks _terrified_. It's a drawn out, tense moment, with the flames feeding in the background, snaking across the floorboards. The building creaks, the fire roars, and yet he can still hear the woman beneath his blade whimper. She shuts her eyes, holds her breath, and. . . 

The moment passes, the skin not even broken, and she realizes he's not going to kill her.

"Aw, how cute." She purrs, and Ghirahim's snarl falters once again. He digs the knife in deeper, but the threat is gone. She knows.

"Makes sense he'd fall for a whore like you." She laughs, scratching a long nail down his cheek. He wishes he could say he doesn't react, but the whispered "takes one to know one" only has her sneering wider.

"Not your usual type, right? He's just... so small, so innocent..." Cia sighs, and Ghirahim's hand is shaking. He's not going to kill her. He promised.

"Such a shame. I wonder what would hurt worse, _you_ never coming back, or **him**?"

"Enough!" He shouts, and the skin finally breaks. Cia looks surprised, gasping as he slices a thin line. She's bleeding, but she'll live. This was a bad idea.

Panting heavily, he draws away, holding himself back. It's getting hard to breath.

"Leave him alone."

In her shock, she nods. Maybe not a total waste. He turns his back on her. It's risky, but a message she needs to know. He's not afraid of her.

Straightening himself up, Ghirahim makes to leave the room. He's nearly there, when the click of a loaded gun resounds through the chamber.

The shot is taken.

Everything is a blur.

He spins around faster than he thought possible, throwing the knife out of his hand and lodging it into the wall where her head used to be. It missed.

He missed.

He missed, but he's still alive.

She.... she didn't miss.

Cia is lying motionless on the ground, and Ghirahim's head snaps towards Volga. In the haze of smoke, he watches him cock the gun one more time. 

"There. It's done."

"I had it covered!"

"No you didn't. You've gone soft." An afterthought, he adds, "Makes sense, given your change of taste in partners."

Ghirahim is on the verge of hyperventilating. Cia's still breathing, maybe, but she's out clean. He hadn't meant to kill her, killing her was more trouble than she's worth. The fire has spread to the other candles, eating away at whatever substance she drew on the floor. They're separated now, her on the other side of the blaze, Ghirahim trapped with Volga. 

They've already been here to long, and though he thinks it's fair game, if Cia dies by the fire he caused Link will not be happy. Pulling at his hair, Ghirahim turns on the man with a murderous look in his eyes. 

"Do you realize what you've done? Alive, she would've kept quiet. _Dead_ , she'll have people looking into this!"

He hadn't been planning to cover up a murder. He wasn't trying to hide this, there were tracks everywhere. Any competent knight could take one look at this and have it in the bag.

"She died in the fire. The secret will burn with her."

Something snaps. He's not sure what. Before he knows it, he's pulling out his final knife, locked in a fight with Volga. He can barley think, it's no use trying. Maybe he gets a few hits in, maybe he got hit and slashed a couple more times than he was used to. He's gone blind with rage, and next thing he knows he's got a dagger in Volga's neck.

Sloppy. He missed a major artery. Volga might live if he lets him.

But what's one more murder?

No.

_He promised._

_He promised **Link.**_

Just enough sense to leave the dagger in the wound, Ghirahim backs away, blood soaking his hands.

"Don't... fucking... test me."

His words shake, he's coming down from the adrenaline high and crashing rapidly. There's a siren, and his phone is lighting up with angry texts from Zant. He ditched, got out and is well away. Snarling, Ghirahim turns back Volga, but it's no use.

"I'm out of this. This was the last time, you hear? If you get any ideas about coming near me, or..."

"Or your _Link_."

"Yes, or Link, then I will not hesitate to kill you or anyone else who thinks they can underestimate me. I have not, as you say, 'gone soft.' I simply do not care enough to find your pitiful lives worthy of my time."

He says it with such conviction Volga's defense falters. He reaches for the dagger, making to pull it out (stupid—it's not tough to die) an intimidation tactic that has never worked on Ghirahim. Thinking better, his hand reaches for the gun, knocked away during the fight, but Ghirahim is fast. Foot set on his fingers curled around the trigger, he sneers at the man at his feet. 

"There's things you don't know about him." Volga struggles to say, coughing as smoke fills his lungs. It stings Ghirahim's eyes, the proximity to the fire burns his skin. Wait much longer and they'll be dead. 

"I don't care."

"Why Link was involved with Cia in the first place."

"I said _I don't care!"_ He yells, stomping down on his hand and kicking the gun away. Volga roars, rearing back and ready to fight again. 

Ghirahim leaves before he can say anything else.

* * *

Against his better judgment, he looks back at the building, burning on the horizon. He doesn't care if the others got out (well, maybe Zant, because rent is due if he dies or not). Still, his stomach feels sick as he watches the flames, sure Link will be furious. He wasn't supposed to draw this much attention. 

The sirens in the distance grow closer, and he knows he has to get out of here. He doesn't have time to take inventory of his injuries, and the strain of the night is quickly catching up to him. So much smoke is never good to inhale. 

About to leave, Ghirahim takes one last glance at the building. A shadow, strangely shaped, darts from a side exit of the thorn maze. On closer inspection, they are short, feminine, clutching their shoulder. They take one last look at the building, and disappear into the night. 

Well. Plausible deniability. He can go home now and truthfully say he does not know whether Cia lived or died.

Link should at least accept that.


	10. *It's Over; Or, it's Just Beginning*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While this is a partial repost, it went from 3000 words to 6000, changed part of the original storyline, and I cut and rewrote a whole section

As he wraps his wounds, Ghirahim paces in front of the television. Of course, the mysterious fire in one of Hyrule's most ancient temples, no matter how deserted, is breaking news. Social media is blowing up. News sites are updating conspiracy theories as people begin to wake. 

Flopping down on the couch, Ghirahim groans. He was in over his head. Once upon a time, yes, this was absolutely something he could have pulled off. The additional arson and murder would have been no more than minor set backs, nothing to worry about. He risked too much.

But the payout was worth it. Cia will no longer harass Link. Link will trust him when he says this was it, the mistakes proof. Everything will be fine.

Yeah, he can keep telling himself that. 

When the crash comes from the front door, he ignores it. It startles him, yes, and he jumps more than he cares to admit, but it's not something to deal with right now. Unfortunately whatever's out there demands his attention. 

There's frantic knocking, someone pounding against the frame with their palm, and the knob rattles as they try to force it open. Kitchen knife in hand (all his good ones lost now), he cowers in the kitchen like a wounded animal. How far the mighty fall. 

The voice that accompanies the onslaught snaps him from his state, leaving him cursing how paranoid he's become.

" _Ghirahim_ , it's me, let me in!"

Relived its only Link, Ghirahim throws open the door, immediately tackled in a hug.

"I just—the emergency news, that can't be the full story—what did you _do?"_

"It doesn't matter." Ghirahim sighs, locking the door behind him. "It's over now, and you don't have to deal with her anymore."

"Oh my goddess, did you kill her?"

Looking into Link's wide eyes, at least he can answer truthfully, "No, but I don't know if she's still alive."

It's as much as he's going to say. Link has gotten farther into this mess than he ever should have, but it's in the past now. "Don't worry about it. It's not your problem anymore."

"I don't want it to be your problem either." Link pleads, and he looks as if he's on the verge of tears.

"It's not. You're safe, I'm safe, we're safe. We're safe."

Held in his arms, Link seems to accept this. In the coming days, Ghirahim knows he'll have to tell him more, and eventually find out if Cia survived, but for now, they are safe. Link feels like home.

He hadn't bothered to turn on many lights, licking his few wounds in the dark, but the rising sun outside casts an orange glow through the curtains. It's enough to reveal the bandages and uncovered bruises. Link gently traces one on his bicep, one he didn't remember getting but found himself bleeding from nonetheless.

Link sniffs once, turning his head from Ghirahim's shoulder to mumble into the dark, "I have no idea what you just did, but it wasn't good. Emergency room, right now, just to be safe."

"Link, I'm _fine_."

It's clear he doesn't believe him. Sighing, Ghirahim leads Link farther into the apartment, dropping onto the couch as the TV cuts to a commercial. The sound was never on, but the flashing pictures across the screen were distraction enough. They won't save him from this conversation, though. 

"You can't drive anyway, how do you expect to get to the hospital?"

Huffing, Link inspects the few bandages and glances over his body like he's going to find some hidden gash seeping blood, but Ghirahim had been careful. Mostly.

"Fine. No hospital, but I'm staying here. There was an explosion. You could have died."

He could have died for a lot of reasons, but the explosion was not one of them.

"Oh, darling, I was the cause of it."

Link isn't looking straight at him, but he sees his eyes widen in a mix of shock and fear. Ghirahim hesitates, wondering if that was the wrong thing to say, but Link brushes it off a moment later.

"I don't care. If nothing else, it was emotionally taxing, I'm sure you're exhausted."

"Not really." He yawns, and Link has the audacity to laugh at him. Dodging the weak swipe aimed at him, Link ducks and rests against his side, wary of the tender bruises. Fixed on the TV, he mumbles, "Tell me what happened, then."

"It's complicated."

"Short version, at least. Why was there an explosion?"

"We needed a distraction." He shrugs, and it's the honest answer. Link takes in a short breath and scoffs.

"Distraction. For what?"

And this is where he has a choice. Tell Link everything, and risk his reaction, or brush it aside and forget this whole thing ever happened. He must take too long, because Link shifts against him murmurs, "I see."

"Link, it's not that—"

"No, no, I get it." The man interrupts, pulling away. Arms wrapped around himself, Link is outlined by the light of the screen, watching the news station move from the morning report to the weekly forecast.

"I'm not mad." He begins, avoiding the other, "There's things I haven't told you either. I guess it's wrong of me to expect you to tell me everything when I'm hiding it too."

"Link, you don't have to."

"I know. I think I should." Turning around, shoulders squared, Link faces Ghirahim with a determined expression. "I used to work for someone who I now see is no better than anyone else in this city. Someone who hired _teenagers_ to do what they couldn't, to solve the problems they created with their politics while supporting them behind our backs. I thought I was doing good."

He hesitates, biting his tongue. Ghirahim is patient, he'll wait until he says what he needs to. It gives him time to decide Link deserves to hear what happened from him, not from the tabloids and grapevines that will bend and break the story until it's unrecognizable. 

"I know what goes on, I know what you've done. And I know all I have to do is go to Zelda and she can tell me exactly what happened—but if you don't want me to know, I won't." Tears pricking his eyes, Link finishes with a whisper of, "I trust you." 

"It's not that I don't want you to know because I'm hiding it from you," Ghirahim starts as Link settles back on the couch, "it's that this is over and there's no point worrying anymore."

"I can be the judge of that myself, thanks." Link mutters, but he keeps quiet and lets Ghirahim explain.

"I know. You're stronger than you let on." He takes a deep breath. The TV cuts out into static. A car alarm goes off in the distance. It's grounding, helping clam the fear that keeps the words from leaving his mouth.

He's ready.

"Where it really went wrong was. . ." 

* * *

Hours pass as the sun traces its path across the sky, undeterred by the affairs of earth. Link, true to his word, stayed and made Ghirahim get some sleep. He's woken by the sound of pots falling from their cabinet and furious cursing, the smell of something savory and warm filling the whole apartment.

"Pumpkin soup." Link shrugs, forcing a steaming bowl into his hands, "I tried, at least. It's from a can, so, not the best it could be." 

"Thanks." Ghirahim whispers anyway, accepting the gesture for what it is. Link, despite his assurance he wasn't worried, can't seem to keep still as he fusses over burned pots and the mess of first aid left on the kitchen table. 

He calms as the day turns into night, relaxing when he begins to realize everything is, for once, fine. 

The TV's on but they're not watching, laying nearly on top of one another with couch cushions strewn about, blankets tangled between legs, and slightly-burnt popcorn littering the floor. Link rests his cheek against Ghirahim's chest, a small sigh escaping when the other's hand cards through his hair.

Between the TV and the city noises, it's hard to concentrate on one thought. Ghirahim almost misses when Link speaks to him.

"I'm glad you're alive."

"Hmm. Yeah."

"Feeling okay?" Shifting a little, Link brings his hand to rest on the other's thigh, tiny motions as he rubs the muscle.

"Never better."

"You were pretty beat up."

_"Thanks."_ Ghirahim drawls, sarcasm dripping from his tone, "You should have seen the other guy." 

Link laughs at that, a short breath that he tries to hide. "You got your ass kicked, don't lie. Want me to kiss it better?"

He's joking, so of course Ghirahim responds with, "If you're offering," gently tugging Link's hair teasingly.

The response of "I did ask" is muffled where it's said against cloth, Link's hand now pressed flat to his hip. "I can do a lot more than kiss to make you feel better." 

Link mumbles something Ghirahim fails to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"No more interruptions, no more waiting, we're doing this now. Please?"

That's not what he said first, but Ghirahim is more interested now. Sitting up farther, he tilts his head in question, smiling as the blush forms on Link's face.

"I want you to fuck me." Link says quickly, like he wants to say it before he changes his mind. Ghirahim can see him visibly swallow, press his tongue against his cheek, and take a deep breath. "If you want. But I want to, and I don't want anything else to get in the way."

He had been looking everywhere but Ghirahim, and now he locks gazes and stares him down, hopeful and anxious. Tilting his chin towards him, Ghirahim gives answer in the form of a kiss.

It's nothing new. They've kissed dozens of times, hundreds. Kissing Link feels as natural as a heartbeat, as familiar as breathing when his soft lips spread open and let Ghirahim inside. Still, he takes his time, fingertips drifting over a freckled jaw and curling into golden hair. When he pulls away, eyes still shut, he nods. 

"Of course. We've waited long enough." Ghirahim adds, because actions may speak louder than words but words have power of their own. He needs Link to know he wants this as much as he does.

Their mingled breaths and pounding heartbeats drown out the sounds that once seemed so distracting, waiting for the next move. Link wraps an arm around Ghirahim's neck, pulling them both up with some difficulty. 

"I don't know what to do now." Link laughs nervously, fidgeting with the threadbare pillows. "I kind of thought it would just... happen, I'm not sure what to do."

"Let's start with going to a real bed." Ghirahim shakes his head, dragging the other by the arm to his room. "More comfortable than that old thing."

"Yeah." Link agrees, more to fill the silence than anything. He sits at the edge, watching as Ghirahim locks the door.

When Ghirahim turns back, he can't help but smile. Link already looks so worked up, tousled hair and kiss-swollen lips, cheeks flushed pink. His boyfriend is practically vibrating when he steps toward the bed, but frozen between his legs, Link stops before Ghirahim can get a hand on him.

"Ah, no. You're _hurt_. Let me take care of this."

With a little smirk, Link shuffles back. He's blushing furiously, fiddling with the edge of his shirt.

He sucks in a short breath. In a swift movement, his shirt comes over his head, tossed aside somewhere that will be hard to find later. Cocking an eyebrow, Ghirahim leans against his dresser to enjoy the show.

Link is adorably awkward as he runs a hand up his side, reaching past his ear and messing with his hair as he tugs at his waistband. He's strong, but not incredibly muscular, and Ghirahim knows those tight jeans are hiding wonderfully plush thighs.

Pulling his knees from under him awkwardly, Link lets the jeans slide to to floor, bunching around his ankles as he struggles to kick them off. Ghirahim chuckles, and he's sent a halfhearted glare.

Pants out of the way, Link's hands hover of the waistband of his shorts. His shoulders set back, and with a fluid motion, they're on the floor as well.

"You're beautiful."

Link shoots up, flushed all the way across his chest, when Ghirahim can't keep himself from murmuring.

"Come here."

He obeys, crawling back to the edge, his legs gently squeezing together in embarrassment. Ghirahim runs a hand across his side, grinning as Link shivers.

"Hey. It's okay. I know you're nervous." He coos, guiding Link's hand to his own shirt. "And we can stop at any time. This is about you."

Link nods. His hands dip under the soft cotton, helping Ghirahim get it off. A light touch brushes over a bandage, worried look crossing his face.

"Nothing serious." Ghirahim assures, moving him down to his hips. "No stitches to pop. Don't worry about it."

He can tell Link still does, but his boyfriend's focus has shifted. Fists bunched in jeans and shorts, Link drags down and off, eyes averted.

"Link. Look at me." Ghirahim sighs, sitting next to him. He doesn't, but leans into the touch when an arm is wrapped around his shoulders. "I know you want this, but you don't seem confident. I know _I'm_ not rushing you, so I'll ask: are you rushing yourself?"

Link says no, but his body language says otherwise. He's worrying his lip, his hands restless and fidgety. Ghirahim feels his shoulders tense, unsure if the shiver running down his spine is from cold or nerves.

"You know you can tell me if you don't want this. I don't care how long we wait, or if it never happens." He reassures, feeling the other relax as he rubs soft circles into his skin. "Do you want to talk?"

A short nod, and Link grasps for a blanket to wrap around himself. Collecting his thoughts, he leans back into the other and sighs.

"I'm scared." Link begins, "Of losing you. I saw the news and... and..."

"Link, it's okay, you're okay."

"Yeah. Yeah, we're okay." He mutters, continuing, "And I... I really want to have sex with you. Not because the disaster turned me on or anything, but... I've never before, I want you to be my first. Maybe only. Something's always in the way, I need to get this over with while I can. And that won't happen if you keep..."

Ghirahim laughs, but it's a gentle, coaxing laugh. "Link, it's fine, I'm fine. I'm here for you, whenever you want me, I'm not going anywhere." He reassures, brushing a tear from across his partner's cheek. "When you're ready."

"I am!" Link argues, sitting back up. "I'm ready now, I swear! I'm sorry, but honestly I'm scared of this too!"

A little surprised at his outburst, Ghirahim leans back, but he's smiling with a hand still on Link's cheek.

"Okay. Tonight it is." He chuckles, pulling him in for a kiss. Just a quick, gentle press of their lips, before he pulls back and comforts, "It's not really our first time, if that makes you feel better. Remember that night you came to my doorstep? We've already had sex, more than once." Ghirahim scoffs, and Link is calming down. "Stop putting so much pressure on this as something you _have_ to do, and make it something you _want_ to."

Link nods, but he stays silent. Introspective, retreating in on himself. Ghirahim doesn't want to tell him no, but he won't enjoy his first time like this.

"Let me take over, okay? There will be plenty of other times for you to boss me around." Ghirahim smirks, and the blush is back on Link's face. Good.

Trailing a hand down his body, Ghirahim relishes the shiver, happy to see Link responding under his hand. Pushing the blanket away, he pulls Link into this lap, teasing at heated skin and pebbled nipples. 

"It's just you and me now." He coaxes, words mouthed into his neck. A small moan resonates from his partner's chest as he licks across a reddened collar bone, upwards toward an equally flushed jaw. "Only you and me, Link."

His lips trail downward, laying the two of them to the bed so he can play with the pink buds on his chest, biting and pinching and teasing until he's left whining and gasping for breath.

"Ghirahim..." Link murmurs, yelping as he's pinched particularly hard. Breathing shaky as the hands move on, stroking his sides and squeezing his stomach, he brings a hand to mess with a pointed ear.

"I'm sorry I made you think I didn't..." He trails off as Ghirahim's hands dip below hipbones, nails scraping at smooth inner thighs. Link moans, wriggling above him, his cock searching for the other to grind into. 

Ghirahim considers telling him not to worry, but he can't help the way his lips curl against his breast when a better idea comes to mind. "You can make up for it by telling me how much you do want this."

Link gasps, loud and shocked, when Ghirahim's hand finally wraps around him. "Oh! I— _yes,_ please, Ghirahim, I can't tell you how much I've wanted, for how long—" He babbles, sliding back to bury his face into his partner's neck. Chuckling, Ghirahim relishes the cry when he presses a thumb over the slit. 

"Keep going. Tell me what you want." He orders, fist closing around the underside and speeding up. 

"I—I mean, I love this but I, I want you to, Ghirahim, oh, I can't—" Link whines, biting down on his shoulder. Hissing, Ghirahim squeezes in retaliation, only bit harder when he does.

"I can't stop think about you inside of me, about your... about you fucking me, and, and, I don't know, I just know I want you!" Link nearly sobs, moaning as his hips twitch and stutter. He can't keep himself from rutting into Ghirahim's hand, stomach tensing as he feels something begin to build up.

That's what Ghirahim wants. From here he's gentle, stroking his cock as the wetness smears over the tip, whispering encouraging praise into a pointed ear.

"That's right. I'm here, let me take care of you."

Though he's slowed down, it's clear Link is barely holding on, trying to keep himself back. He can't, and his legs shake as he bites down again. That's okay. Ghirahim plans to make him come again, and if he's lucky, again before the night ends.

It's not meant to be overwhelming or spectacular, and Link barley makes a sound when he climaxes. He pants as he's pulled in for another kiss, moaning as Ghirahim pushes a tongue into his mouth. Biting at his partner's lip, Ghirahim groans, reaching around to caresses Link's rear.

"Are you still up for this?"

"Yes!" Link cries, rutting his spent cock against Ghirahim's stomach in an attempt to seem enthusiastic. Ghirahim gives him a dark chuckle, breaking away to pull open the bedside drawer.

"Have you ever tried fingering yourself before?"

Link squeaks, but as he hides his face in his hands nodding, Ghirahim grins up at him. "Good. That will make it easier, and I may even get inside of you tonight."

Crawling back to him, Ghirahim takes note of the way Link tucks himself against the wall and keeps his face hidden. His knees press together, body trembling. He's still nervous.

In front of him, Ghirahim sits on bent legs, cock heavy between them. Pulling Link's hands away from his face, he waves the bottle of lube and says, "Let me.... walk you through exactly what I'm going to do with you."

Eyes wide, Link nods as Ghirahim's sharp smile widens.

"I'll probably start by laying you against the bed." He begins, lashes fluttering closed as he leans back. "And press you open for me—like this." Hands keeping his thighs pressed down, Ghirahim peaks open an eye to smirk at Link's deer-in-headlights expression, some sense of pride in the way he can't look away from his body. 

"And then tease you, here, here, here..." He strokes his own hips, the curve where his rear meets his thighs, and perineum, rubbing slow circles as he draws out each word. "Before finally stopping... here." The pad of his finger pressed to his own hole, Ghirahim laughs when Link gulps, a choked squeak when he dips the tip in.

"I won't do that without proper preparation." He teases, squeezing the bottle with his other hand. The demonstration is messy, not bothering to look as he smears the cool gel around, and he slips his finger inside.

Link's eyes widen.

"I'll start slow. Just one." He fingers himself, pulling in and out as Link watches, sucking in a breath when he tugs at the rim and stretches his hole open for him. "And I'll take more time for you, but the goal will be—" He plunges two more fingers in, fucking himself for the boy in front of him, breathing hard from the strain.

He lets himself go for a moment, moaning with head fallen back. Something brushes against his knees, and when he focuses again, Link has come out of his shell. Keeping them open, he watches shyly as Ghirahim slips a finger out to scissor himself. 

"And then, once you're nice and spread open..." He pauses, leaving himself stretched between two fingers as Link squirms between his knees. His eyes are fixated on his twitching hole, and Ghirahim pulls out completely.

"Do you want to fuck me, Link? Another orgasm would certainly help you relax."

"What?" His head snaps up, eyes wide and face flushed. Link worries his lip, eager as he shivers, and cocks his head. "Like, now?"

"I'm certainly prepared." Ghirahim notes, hooking a leg behind Link's waist. "And truth be told, I don't now how long I can wait for you. I'm ready to _burst."_

Reaching for another packet, Ghirahim tosses Link a condom and raises an eyebrow. "Well?"

"Yes, please." Link nods his head rapidly, ripping into the shiny paper and quickly sliding the latex over his cock. "Whatever you want."

Ghirahim laughs as Link presses in, tilting his hips to allow the other access. Going slow, Link's hips stutter until he's buried to the root. Panting, he groans, leaning forward onto his arms for purchase. Ghirahim hooks his other leg around his waist, and jerks his hips up as Link cries out.

"I'm not going to do _all_ the work, you know." He teases, snickering as Link moans and follows his lead. He pets at Link's hair as he thrusts, sloppy and uneven, but it's the best he's had all the same.

" _Goddesses,_ Ghirahim, you're so.... tight and warm and... you feel amazing...." Link gasps out as he pries himself into the other, shaky and fumbling but enthusiastic. Ghirahim coos praise, telling him to chase his own release and not to bother about him.

Ghirahim worked himself up so much that even with Link's inexperience he's trembling within minutes. He feels the heat pool in his stomach, the sharp intake of breath as it explodes, clenching down around the cock inside of him. Moaning as Link fucks him through it, Ghirahim lets his thoughts fade away, relenting control to Link as he writhes beneath him. 

When he starts to think properly again, he smiles up at Link, eyes heavy lidded and feeling dazed. It had been so long, and though skill wise Link isn't comparable as it was only his first time, it was obviously the best he ever had.

"Sorry, I drifted... are you done?" He asks, stroking Link's cheek as his boyfriend gathers himself. 

"Yeah, I—wow."

Laughing, Ghirahim whines as Link pulls out, flopping down on top of him. "And that is—more or less—what I'm about to do to you."

_"Oh."_ Is all Link can say, picking himself up and staring down at him. "I almost—I almost forgot." He looks away, sitting back and discarding the used condom. "Are there more in..." He looks for confirmation, and pulls open Ghirahim's drawer for another.

Ghirahim sighs and relaxes into the sheets. He's starting to get a little tired, sore from the previous night, but the sight of Link on all fours leaning to reach is enough to keep him going.

"Ignore whatever else is in there, junk, mostly." He remarks as Link rifles through for the box, pausing for a moment. "And some other things we might use. Later."

Shooting him a look over his shoulder, Link shakes his head and goes back to his search. When he pulls away, he has what he was looking for.

Ghirahim takes it off his hands as Link straddles him, fiddling with the edge. Glancing up, he confirms, "Do you still want me to fuck you? Are you sure of this?"

Link nods quickly as he trembles in anticipation. In a graceful motion, Ghirahim reverses their places, pinning his gasping boyfriend to the bed.

"Don't hold back for me, I want to hear you." Ghirahim purrs, leaning down to whisper it in Link's ear. He's graced with a loud moan, rewarded with a bite at his neck. "Deafen yourself with the sound of your own screams."

Link whimpers and cries as Ghirahim teases him, stroking and pulling at different parts of his body until he's between his legs, pushing up his knees and caressing. Link whines again, wiggling his hips in a silent beg.

"So impatient." Ghirahim chastises, but he's popping open the cap of the lube. Link's eyes fly open at the sound, panting as he watches the clear liquid pour across Ghirahim's fingers. "Already getting so worked up again, so soon?"

Link whimpers in answer, bucking his hips up and only confirming Ghirahim's taunts. Taking his hardening cock into his hand, Ghirahim gives him a few strokes before teasing, "Should I make you work for this? Make you again come under my fingers before you earn my cock?"

"Ghirahim, _please_ ," Link wails, knees squeezing around his boyfriend's body. "Don't you think I've already earned it?" Chuckling darkly, Ghirahim gives him what he wants. 

"I told you exactly what I was going to do to you, and I am a man of my word." He reminds, rubbing circles into the sensitive skin between the two places he wants most to be touched. Link groans, placing a pillow over his face and _screaming_ when Ghirahim squeezes his cock and slaps at his thigh.

"Now now, I told you I want to hear you." He scoffs, tugging the pillow away and letting Link's frustrated cries out into the room. "Be a good boy for me and I'll consider hurrying this up a bit."

Gasping, Link hugs the pillow and squirms in his grasp. Moaning (a little exaggeratedly), he begs once more.

"Ghirahim, please! Gods, I want you to fuck me so bad...."

Indulging him, Ghirahim ceases his stroking. At first, it's just a finger. Just a careful in and out as Link adjusts, giving him a feel for what he's in for. Link shallows his discomfort, begging softly for more.

Instead of adding another, Ghirahim strokes his walls, stretching out the rim and massaging the tight ring to a point it doesn't burn for Link anymore. Then, he adds another, scissoring him open. Keeping him there, held open and dripping with lube, Ghirahim flashes him a cruel smile, brushing his hand alongside his cock and thumbing at the tip. Link whimpers, hole quivering as he clenches down. 

A third finger penetrates, venturing to even add a fourth as Link responds so beautifully beneath him, twitching and moaning as he searches deep within.

It's obvious when he find what he's looking for. Link bucks his hips, cries out, and babbles a few more pleas of 'oh, there, please there'. Grin widening, Ghirahim refuses to listen.

"Here?" He feigns ignorance, brushing against Link's walls with sure strokes. Hooking his fingers, he dances around the edge, watching Link come apart beneath him.

"No, oh, Hylia, you're so close, you're, you're—THERE!" He shouts when Ghirahim, who knows exactly what he's doing, presses hard against his prostate. Giving him what he wants, Ghirahim strokes over the spot, watching Link twitch and keen for him.

He keeps this up only a few moments more, knowing he could make Link come like this, but there where better ways to do so. 

Pulling out, he scoffs at Link's needy cry, giving him a light slap on his thigh.

"Can you wait long enough for me to prepare myself?" He asks exasperatedly, though he's just teasing. Embarrassed, Link nods, burying his face in the pillow.

His ears twitch at the sound of the condom ripping open, at the slick sound of Ghirahim applying more lube. He jumps as more is spread across his stretched hole, whining as a finger dips in before he's left empty again.

Ghirahim's lined up against him when he reaches for his cock, demanding his attention.

"Let me see your face." He orders, and Link's head pops up from the pillow he's hugging tight. He's aglow with a flush, cheeks so dark he can barely see the freckles that dot across his nose.

"Hmm." Ghirahim sighs, waiting a moment longer as Link smiles up at him, giving him the go ahead. "So perfect."

Pressing in gently, he stops, lets Link adjust, and waits for him to nod for more. He reaches the base as he leans over top him, pressing him down with a heated kiss.

Panting, he draws back, forehead pressed to Link's. He smiles against his lips.

"Does it get better?"

"Yes!" Ghirahim laughs breathlessly, holding him close. Link echoes him, a few short laughs, nervous but happy as Ghirahim starts to slide out.

He thrusts in again, grinning at Link's broken cry as he bottoms out so soon.

"Ghirahim!" His boyfriend yells, so loud and undeterred, and it's music to his ears. It's not long before he's able to keep him moaning his name, piercing him with such precision he's hitting the nerves dead on.

Link is a mess, moaning and screaming his name, any earlier embarrassment gone. He's in a state of bliss, responding to praise with praise of his own, laughing every so often as pleasure is forced upon him.

"Ghirahim, please," He moans, shaking as he meets each thrust with one of his own, "Please, touch me, goddess, I'm so close, oh, please."

Happy to oblige, Ghirahim wraps a hand around him, no longer bothering to taunt the boy. Trying his best to stroke in time with his thrusts, he brings Link to the edge again, milky white threads spurting out and staining their chests. Link is shouting his name, quivering and clenching around him.

He hasn't come yet himself, but he's willing to end this and let Link rest. "Do you want to stop?"

"No!" Link begs, surging up to kiss him. He pulls away with swollen lips and stolen breath, and softer, repeats, "No. I want... I want you to come inside me."

Ghirahim sighs, nearly unable to deny such a sweet request. Kissing him once more, he whispers an apology, but the condom is staying on. Link accepts without argument, and lies back down.

"I can still make this more interesting for you."

A questioning look, and Link gasps as Ghirahim pulls out, pushing at his hips. "Roll over, on your knees."

Breathing heavily, Link does as he's told, sticking his bottom up and grinding against him. Ghirahim groans himself, and from this new position, pushes in.

Link is more vocal from here, even if Ghirahim can't hear it as well. His shaking arms give out, and he's holding tight to the pillows and bedspread and he moans and begs.

"Oh, Ghirahim, this is— _yes, there!_ —better than I imagined, oh please—" He cries, jerking lightly as Ghirahim runs a hand down his spine. It tangles in his hair, pulling, and Link moans even louder.

The walls aren't thin, but Ghirahim smirks at the thought someone might hear his Link in such pleasure. He doesn't bring it up now, but perhaps he'll mention it, off hand, sometime tomorrow. Watch Link get flustered, convince him to be loud again. He'd be more than willing to help him.

It doesn't take long now for him to reach a climax, holding Link down through it. He's coming, he's growling Link's name, head pressed in his nape as he holds him there. Link keens at the constant pressure.

Still inside, Ghirahim nips at his skin once, and wraps around to stroke him again. Link is hard, and by the sound of it, nearly there _again._ He almost degrades him for it, something he would find hot if done to himself, but thinks Link may not. He'll talk to him later.

Link is incoherent as he jerks in his hand, dry but still orgasming, something akin to thankfulness falling from his lips. Chuckling, Ghirahim pulls out, flips him over to and crashes next to him on the bed.

"Wow. Four times." He teases, pressing light kisses to his cheeks. Link laughs, breathless and happy, as he hugs him close. "Am I that good?"

"I didn't know I could. So, yes, yes you are _that_ good." He admits, nuzzling into Ghirahim's neck. He sighs, content, as he relaxes in the afterglow.

Ghirahim strokes his hair, letting him rest for a moment. "Look, I'm not trying to rush you, but it is best to clean this off sooner rather than later."

Link's cheeks are hot against his skin.

"And you're going to drink water, no iced coffee for either of us."

Link laughs, sweet giggles as he burrows closer.

"Thank you. For everything." He whispers, cuddled against his body. Ghirahim sighs, threading his fingers through his hair. Link leans into his palm, continuing to whisper his thoughts.

"I never—I thought you hated me. I know now you don't, but..." Link jokes, but there's insecurity underneath it. Gently tugging at tangles, Ghirahim sighs.

"I thought I did. Never really hated you, even in the beginning." He mentions, assuring him it's not the case. "And you know what? After tonight, I'd go as far as saying I love you."

Link sucks in a tiny gasp, tightening his grip around Ghirahim. Smiling, Ghirahim lets go long enough for Link to forcefully pull himself up, dragging him into a bruising kiss.

"Goddess, Ghirahim, yes, I love you too." He smiles breathlessly. Another quick kiss, and Link repeats once more, "I love you."

It's different. Frightening, to think of what comes next. He had never made it this far before, live fast die young attitude always getting in the way of real companionship. But Link is here, _now_ , and there's no use dwelling on what's gone and what's to come.

There will be time, Ghirahim thinks, for them to talk things through. He's not going to hide anything from him, not anymore. He can promise he'll be there for Link, and they can start to plan a real future together.


	11. "Epilogue"

"It's funny, being back in this room."

"I'm sorry."

"... remember when I told you the only goal I had in this relationship was to not get stabbed?"

" _Link._ I said it was an accident."

Link laughs again, but it comes out as more of a wheeze. Brushing him off, Ghirahim sinks into the rickety plastic chair as they wait for the nurse to come back and tell them they're free to go.

"I'm only joking," he smiles, reaching out for his hand, "I know you didn't mean it _that much._ "

With an exasperated sigh, Ghirahim takes his offered palm, face still hidden in his free hand. "I'll be more careful next time."

"If there is a next time," Link scoffs, squeezing comfortingly, "something tells me this is going to become your go-to excuse to never make dinner, do the dishes, or clean the kitchen again."

Shaking his head, Ghirahim lets his hand fall from Link's as the other stifles his laughter, teasing nowhere near finished.

"If you wanted to throw knives so bad—"

"Can't you just drop it?" 

"Like you did?"

Ghirahim has never been more happy to see someone approaching with paperwork.

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" He whispers, standing up to greet the nurse.

The soft pop of "nope" isn't a surprise, no more than all the care instructions he's left with. Two wrong turns in the maze of hallways and a pit stop in the hospital café later he's ushering Link into his car, only slightly more aware than when they first did this, and they're headed home.

To their home. The home that they both live in, that they share, that still probably has blood on the kitchen floor and _oh fuck the stove may still be on_.

"You turned the stove off." Link assures him, startling Ghirahim as they pause at a red light. "What? You had that look on your face."

Though it's commonplace for them to say these things now, to notice each other's quirks and mannerisms that even they don't realize, it still amazes him. He wants to learn everything about what makes Link Link, and to let him do the same.

Ghirahim glances at the clock on the dashboard. Well past midday. Link idly knocks his knuckles on the center console, staring out the window

"Do we have enough bandages and gauze and stuff?"

"Probably not. Do you feel well enough to stop now?"

He nods as the light turns green, the car lurching forward and back into motion. Though their destination has changed since the first night, the streets stay the same.

"We should get a cat." Link muses, watching a couple outside the window walk their dog. Turning back to Ghirahim, he asks, "What do you think?"

Noncommittally he answers, "I think we have bigger problems to worry about right now", but it does sound nice. They've been talking about more permanent decisions, long term goals and building solid foundations. It doesn't scare him anymore.

For a moment his eyes leave the road, catching sight of Link's smile in the sunshine, his eyes bright and content. They need more bandages, and there's a prescription for pain medication tossed in the back seat. But for now, Ghirahim is content letting Link ramble on about pet care, thanking all the goddesses he answered the door the night he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to reread some of this but it reads like a trash Wattpad fanfic if you've made it this far I'm so sorry—
> 
> let this be a lesson in post whatever the fuck you want even if you hate your writing 💕 if God wanted me to stop they'd try harder


End file.
